Part V
"Yo, Tommy, I think I have the connection now. Give it a shot."
"Thanks, Alpha."
Tommy retrieved his father's second cell phone from the charger and dialed the number his folks had left for their hotel in Vienna. He hadn't wanted to chance using the regular phone lines as they were probably being tapped, and he wasn't sure if the service his dad used was capable of getting a call through halfway around the world, so he had gone to Dimitria for help. Thankfully, she was willing to bend the rules a bit for the duration of the "Mercyte crisis." He just hoped Alpha was able to transfer the call through the Rangers' communications system.
What time is it in Vienna anyway? Tommy wondered as the call went through. Not that it mattered. Still, he hated waking his folks up--or worse, interrupting something. Two rings . . . Three....
"Guten Tag. Bon Jour. Hello!"
Tommy smiled; his father sounded like he was three sheets to the wind, not that that was remarkable; it didn't take much. His dad did not have a good head for alcohol--then again, neither did he. In the background he could hear his mother's sharp, "Thomas William ...."
"Hi, Dad. It's Tommy."
"Tommy? What are you doing up at this hour?"
"It's the middle of the afternoon here, Dad."
"Oh, yeah, that's right."
"How's Vienna?"
"Wonderful city! Great food . . . even better wine . . . music . . . and the women . . .!"
"Thomas . . . ."
"Don't you worry, Jan; you're still the loveliest lady in the whole country!"
Fortunately, Tommy was used to his parent's little side conversations.
"Ask the boy what he wants."
"Well? Did you hear your mother?"
"Yes, I did. Have you guys been to Paris?"
"He wants to know if we've been to Paris."
"Of course we've been to Paris; we went there first. I swear, sometimes his memory has more holes in it that Swiss Cheese!"
"Did you guys like it enough to want to go back?" Tommy interrupted, getting to the point of his call.
"Do we want to go back . . . ?"
"Thomas, give me the phone . . . Tommy, what is going on?" Janice Oliver queried as she took over the line, for which Tommy was grateful.
"Mom, I need you guys to swing back through Paris. It's important . . . it's about Kimberly...." and he gave his mother a brief outline of what had happened.
". . . so you need us to go visit Caroline and let her know that Kim is all right--for the moment," his mother summarized at the conclusion of his tale.
"Kim hasn't talked to her mother since she fled Florida; I'm sure Mrs. Dumas is worried sick about her."
"What if we called her from here?"
"I wouldn't chance it. Kim's sure her mother's line is being monitored--our line is probably being monitored. It's a safe bet that they know you're in Vienna."
"Then how did you get a hold of us?"
"Some friends are helping bounce the call around." Tommy could almost see his mother's eyebrows climbing questioningly.
"The same friends you're always running off with at all hours of the day and night?"
Tommy smiled; if his uncle had been able to figure it out, then there was no doubt that his mother had to have, too--a long time ago. "Yes." There was an extended silence.
"Can your 'friends' help you two out? Will you be all right?"
"They're doing all they can to find out who sent these things; that's the only way to stop them. Kim and I can handle the tin cans now that we know these things are robots; we won't have to hold back. We're okay for the time being. Kim estimates that they won't be able to attack again until sometime tomorrow."
"You said Kim's hotel was torched; does she need anything?"
"Uncle John already took care of it."
"I knew there was a reason I liked that man. If she needs anything further, you know where the credit cards and things are, don't you?"
"Yes, Mom, you drilled that into my 'Swiss cheese' before you left."
"All right, young man, that's enough."
Tommy smiled at the affectionate jibe. "I need to get going, Mom, before someone figures out what I'm doing and traces this call. I didn't want to involve you guys, but it was the only way . . . ."
"We're your parents, Tommy. We're involved whether you like it or not. You two take care."
"We will."
"I'll see about changing our flight first thing in the morning."
"Thanks, Mom."
"Is there anything else you need us to do?"
"Actually, there is one more thing."
"Yes?"
"Can you recommend a nice restaurant?"
***
"Kim, time to wake up."
Tommy's gentle prompting was followed by an equally gentle kiss. Kim, however, had been awake before he had even spoken; Tommy had made enough noise walking into the room to wake the dead, which was unusual because he used to be able to creep up on her without her being able to hear a sound.
He probably did it to keep from being smacked again!
She flinched at the thought. Still, she didn't feel much like waking up; she hadn't slept so well in ages! The bed was deliciously warm and comfy, and she felt so relaxed. She made sleepy, pouting noises, rolled over, and burrowed her face deeper into the stuffed animal tucked into her arms. She inhaled deeply . . . at first, she had thought it was Tommy's shirt because it smelled so much like him, then she realized what it was: Dragon, the stuffed dragon his great-grandmother had given to him when he had been very small. She recalled how Tommy blushed the first time she had been to his room and found it on his bed.
"A green dragon for a Green Ranger?" she teased.
"Nanna Maggie gave it to me when I was three. Said her knight in shining armor needed a dragon to slay," he admitted with a sheepish grin.
When he stepped out of the room, Kim plopped down on the bed and scooped up the emerald-hued toy. With a giggle, she fell back and regarded the gleaming button eyes. "Are you a wicked dragon who eats princesses? I don't think so. I think you're really very gentle and sweet, the kind who rescues princesses from other wicked dragons--just like Tommy." Then it was her turn to blush; when she looked up, Tommy was standing in the doorway smiling at her embarrassedly--he had heard every word.
"Come on, Cinderella. I thought a kiss was supposed to wake you up," Tommy teased.
Kim opened her eyes and looked up into Tommy's smiling face. "I think you have your fairytales confused. You mean Sleeping Beauty; she's the one who woke up with a kiss."
"True, but Cinderella was the one who was going to the ball."
"Huh?" Kim sat up, belatedly recalled that she had nothing on, and ducked back under the covers. Then, she noticed the robe Tommy held out to her. He looked away modestly--to her amusement--as she gratefully slipped it on. Then, she observed that he was dressed in his best suit--tie and everything--and had his hair pulled back. "Who are you supposed to be? Prince Charming?"
"The ball starts at six, so unless Cinderella wants to eat dinner in the pumpkin patch, she'd better get her gown on."
"Tommy . . .?"
His grin broadened. "If we want to make our dinner reservations, you need to get dressed."
"Where are our reservations for?" she asked, eyeing his formal attire with trepidation.
"The country club."
"How in the world . . .?"
"Dad has a membership through the firm. He has to have some place to take clients to lunch and dinner besides McDonald's or Denny's."
"Tommy, we can't go to the country club for dinner!"
"Why not? According to Dad, they have great food, and you've always wanted to go there."
"I don't have anything to wear!" she objected.
"Maybe Mom has something in the wardrobe you can use," Tommy suggested.
"Your mother is a good six inches taller than I am."
"I think she might have a short cocktail dress or something that would work."
Muttering a variety of imprecations under her breath, Kim scrambled out of bed and padded over to the antique wardrobe. She flung the doors open and froze . . . .
Tommy could not keep the smile from his face as he saw Kim's expression in the mirrors set in the wardrobe's doors as she found the lavender dress. It was worth every dollar spent to see her surprise and delight . . . the smile on her lips and the happy tears that glistened in her eye. For a moment, he saw in her shining eyes a flash of the old Kimberly--the radiant image of a carefree young girl hopelessly in love. Then, practicality set in.
"Tommy . . . ." she admonished, turning to face him. He had already abandoned his seat on the bed. He held her gently by the shoulders and brushed his lips across her brow. Then, he silenced her protests with a finger to her cupid-bow lips.
"Answer me one question. When you tried this dress on earlier, how did it make you feel?" She blinked at him, uncomprehending. "Did it make you feel beautiful? Special?"
"Actually, seeing the way you looked at me when I was wearing this dress made me feel beautiful," she answered shyly. "I'd almost forgotten . . . ."
"Get dressed, and let me help you remember," Tommy whispered.
"Why are you doing this?" Kim whispered timidly.
"Because I love you," Tommy replied, his eyes oh-so-serious. Then, a bit of laughter flared in the chocolate depths. "And because every Cinderella needs a fairy godmother."
"I thought you were Prince Charming."
Tommy shrugged. "So I have to pull double duty tonight."
"Is this just a fairytale, Tommy? Am I going to wake up tomorrow in some cheap motel room or under an overpass and find out this was all just a dream?"
"If you so wish it, my princess, you can wake up tomorrow in my arms. This is real, Kim, as real as my love for you. As real as your love for me."
Kim melted into his arms, and the two shared a lingering embrace.
"Come, Cinderella," Tommy said at last. "The ball awaits, and Prince Charming is starved!"
"So where are my ladies-in-waiting?" Kim teased, finally getting into the spirit of things.
"They have the night off; I'm pulling the ladies' maid duty tonight, too."
"Go find the pumpkin and the white mice and get the carriage ready," Kim laughed, shoving him towards the door.
Tommy bowed. "As my lady wishes!"
***
"Feel up to dessert?" Tommy queried, setting his napkin next to his plate. For the most part, dinner had been an overwhelming experience from the food, to the service, to the overall atmosphere. Neither teen had ever been in so formal a restaurant. The two had spoken little during the meal; they hadn't needed to. A glance . . . a touch conveyed more eloquently what was in their hearts than mere words.
"Are you kidding? I scarcely have room to breathe, let alone eat anything," Kim answered. "I'm not even sure I can get out of this chair I'm so stuffed!"
"I hope you can, because I thought we might go out on the terrace for a bit." Tommy rose from his seat and helped Kim from hers.
"I still can't believe you did this," Kim murmured as she took Tommy's proffered arm, and the two headed through the enormous glass doors to the well-lit patio. They wandered along the railing until they reached a section overlooking the pond. Silvery moonlight shimmered on the dark waters. In the background, music wafted out from the lounge. Kim sighed as she leaned against the balustrade and gazed out over the picturesque scene. Tommy casually draped his arm around her shoulders. "What is your father going to say when he finds out you used his membership card?"
"He already knows," Tommy replied. "He's the one who suggested it."
Kim's head snapped up, and her eyes widened fearfully.
"How did he know? Tommy, you didn't . . . ?"
"I called him in Vienna."
"Tommy, do you realize what you've done? Your phone lines are tapped! The Mercytes know you're helping me . . . they'll go after your parents . . . !"
"I didn't use the phone. I had Alpha route the cell phone's signal through the Power Chamber's communication system. So unless they're monitoring the hotel in Vienna or the Power Chamber, the Mercytes won't know I called."
"Dimitria let you?" Kim asked wistfully, biting her lower lip as she thought of a call she longed to make.
Tommy knew what she was thinking. "You know what I found out when I talked to my folks? Their next stop is Paris."
"Paris?"
"Uh huh. I suggested that they look up your mom and . . . ."
Kim flung her arms around Tommy's neck, nearly knocking him over.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"You're welcome, but don't you want to hear the rest?"
"The rest? There's more?"
"During the next 'lull,' I told dad we'd place another call and see if we can get your mom on the line."
Kim's knees nearly gave out. "Oh God, Tommy, it's been so long . . . ."
"I know."
A silvery tear trickled down Kim's cheek. Tommy gently brushed it away. "No tears allowed at the ball," he said softly.
Kim chuckled and brushed at her eyes.
"However, dancing is allowed," he continued. "Will you do me the honor of this dance, milady?"
With a trembling hand, Kim took his hand. Tommy pulled her close, and Kim relaxed in his arms, the scent of his aftershave filling her senses and his breath warm against her hair. The beat of his heart pounded soothingly in her ears. As they slowly swayed to the distant music, she recognized the tune and began to sing:
Hold me now
It's hard for me to say I'm sorry
I just want you to stay
After all that we've been through
I will make it up to you
I promise to
And after all that's been said and done
You're just the part of me I can't let go
"I didn't realize you knew anything by Chicago," Tommy murmured.
"Is that who sings this?"
"Uh huh. My aunt plays their stuff so much, I probably have the whole repertoire memorized."
"I heard this on an oldies station when I left Angel Grove after the tournament," Kim explained, "and it was so appropriate that it just stuck with me. All I wanted to do was tell you how sorry I was for hurting you. I wanted to tell you how I really felt--that you were the part of me I couldn't let go, but I couldn't risk it . . . ."
"Sh, Kim. I know."
"It's just that . . . I really had given up, Tommy. If I hadn't been at the track when the sleazebuckets attacked yesterday, I'd have made my last stand, and when I'd have fallen, that would have been it. I never dreamed I get to tell you the truth . . . or even have a hope of talking to my mother again . . . ." The emotions caused the words to jam in her throat.
"There'll be time for all that, Kim. There'll be time to see your mother again. Time for us to be together. Time for everything. Just don't ever leave again."
While they were talking, the song had changed, and Tommy found the new ballad rather fitting.
Just say you love me for the rest of your life
I gotta lot of love and I don't want to let go
Will you still love me for the rest of my life?
'Cause I can't go on
No, I can't go on
I can't go on
If I'm on my own
"I nearly forgot what a nice singing voice you have," Kim murmured, moved by what the lyrics--what Tommy--was saying.
"I don't sing much except for Christmas carols," Tommy answered with a shrug. "Please, Kim . . . I don't want to let you go ever again." And he held her tighter.
"I don't ever want to let you go again, either."
The two danced long into the night, softly serenading each other as each new ballad seemed to say for them what was in their hearts.
I don't wanna live without your love
I don't wanna face the night alone
I could never make it through my life
If I had to make it on my own
I don't wanna love nobody else
I don't wanna find somebody new
I don't wanna live without your love
I just wanna live my life with you
With you
***
She hadn't wanted to split up, but Tommy was hurt; she had to draw the Mercytes away from his position. They were close. If they had been alive, she would have felt their breath on the back of her neck . . . heard their breathing . . . Her own breathing was loud in her ears--deep gasping breaths that burned her lungs with the effort it took to gulp in the air. Her heart pounded equally loudly. No doubt her pursuers' scanners would register it, but that was the way she wanted it--she wanted their attention focused solely on her and not on Tommy. She forced her sweat drenched body on through the dark of the night.
As she broke through the trees in the park, she ran into a wall of gleaming silver. Ambush! She'd been cut off! Cold, metal-jacketed hands cruelly twisted and pinned her arms, forcing her to her knees.
"Let me go!" she snarled, struggling. She didn't want to die anymore. She wanted to live; she wanted all the things Tommy had promised her.
"Command Unit, this is Field Unit 8. The target has been apprehended."
Kim braced herself as she felt the vibrations of the teleportation effect. The lethal leader of the robot assassins shimmered into being before her. Kim glared at it with black defiance.
"Prepare to Execute Program Omega 13 . . . termination of assigned target."
The Command Unit leveled it's forearm cannon at her. Kim would not cringe; her eyes never left the cold, red optical sensors.
Then, the machine paused, light flashing on its chest panel
"We have new instructions. Bring forth the other prisoner."
The other . . . Oh, Tommy, no! Kim cried in the deepest reaches of her soul as a pair of robots appeared with their captive. Tommy looked to be in as bad a shape as she was.
"This human was seen assisting the intended target. Our files indicate that he is one Tommy Oliver, former boyfriend of the intended target," the field unit reported.
"Tell me," the command unit demanded of Kimberly, "why would this human assist you when you scorn him? Unless that was all a ruse . . ."
Kim flashed Tommy a desperate glance and prayed he'd forgive her for what she was about to say. But she would do anything . . . say anything if it would keep him alive.
"I tricked him," Kim answered coldly. "I made him believe I still cared to get him to help me against you. Why would I ever go back to him?"
"Kim!" Tommy protested in disbelief.
"Then, he means nothing to you?" the command unit probed.
"Not a thing. You won't get anything out of me by hurting him. You'd just be wasting your bullets." Please let them believe that!
"Perhaps, but our programming requires that all who assist the intended target be terminated. No witnesses."
"NO!" Kim shrieked, throwing herself forward as the command unit whirled around. Though she tried, she could not budge his arm. He fired . . .
"TOMMY!"
Vice-like hands caught her once again as she surged forward. Before her horrified eyes, Tommy's body was bathed briefly in the blood red glow, then, slowly it dissolved until nothing was left but ashes.
"NO!"
Kim surged forward, but hands held her back. She fought to break free, even as tears scalded her cheeks and her cries rendered her throat raw.
"Kim, it's me; Tommy. Wake up! It's a dream . . . just a bad dream!"
"T-Tommy?"
She opened her eyes to find herself wrapped in Tommy's arms. She was still in his parents' room; the covers from the bed had been scattered every which-a-way. A glance in the mirror revealed herself in a state of complete disarray from wild, tangled hair to red-rimmed, fear widened eyes and tear streaked cheeks.
"Tommy? Oh God, Tommy . . . t-they . . . they killed you . . . you died thinking I'd betrayed you . . ." she gulped between sobs, clinging to him as if he was her life line.
"Sh, it's okay now. It was just a nightmare," he murmured, stroking her matted hair. She shivered in his arms--as much from fear as from cold. Her nightshirt was soaked through with sweat.
"I don't want you to die because of me!"
"I won't, Beautiful. Do you really think a bunch of walking tin cans can do what Rita, Zedd, Mondo, and Divatox couldn't? We Rangers are a pretty hard lot to kill."
Slowly, Kim began to settle down. She felt ashamed of herself for reacting as she had. How many nights had she had nightmares similar to this one? How many times had she woke screaming and in tears only to have to calm herself down and reassure herself? Why couldn't she do that now; why couldn't she stop shaking? Why did it feel so much better to have Tommy hold her and soothe her fears away with gentle strokes and soft words?
"Why don't we get you changed," Tommy suggested, fingering the damp cotton.
Kim nodded numbly and started tugging at the hem of her cotton tee. Tommy's hands stopped her, and she eyed him questioningly.
"Are you sure you want to do that?"
She took his meaning and blushed. She hadn't been thinking, and she was completely naked underneath the oversized tee. Normally, she just slept in her clothes.
"Hang on a sec," he instructed. Tommy scrambled off the bed and collected one of the bags from the shopping trip. Rummaging around, he quickly located what he wanted and tossed it to Kim.
Kim eyed the garment with surprise. All silk and lace . . . it was the sweetest pink babydoll nightie; she hadn't worn anything like it in ages. Unaccountably, she felt herself blushing. Tommy seemed to be waiting for her to say something. "It's very pretty."
"I wasn't sure if you'd like it or not," Tommy said a trifle self-consciously.
Kim simply sat there staring at the rose pink lingerie as if she didn't know what to do with it. Tommy took her arm and slid it inside the sleeve of her nightshirt and did the same with the other, undressing her as if she was a small child. Kim watched, unable to do anything to help him as he slipped the fresh nightgown over her head and under the old. She wasn't quite sure how he managed it, but he had gotten her changed without seeing her at all. To Kim's surprise and discomfiture, she found herself profoundly disappointed when she realized that.
"Better?" Tommy asked.
Kim nodded.
"Why don't you try going back to sleep," he suggested, easing her back against the pillows and pulling the counterpane over her. He found Dragon and tucked him into her arms. Then kissed her gently on the brow.
"Will you be all right?" he queried.
"Yes."
"Good night, Kim."
Tommy reached for the light on the night table.
"Don't!" she yelped without knowing why. She didn't need a night light. She had never needed a nightlight.
"Okay, how about I just turn it down?"
Kim felt ridiculous as he dimmed the light. She wasn't a child! She was a grown woman. She didn't need Tommy to baby her like this--to soothe her fears and tell her it was going to be all right; she had survived plenty of worse nightmares over the past year.
No, she didn't need Tommy to comfort her. She wanted him to comfort her--to make the trembling stop and chase the tears and shadows away, to tell her there was nothing to be afraid of.
"Tommy?" she called out suddenly, her voice cracking and her tone frantic.
He paused in the doorway.
For so long, her wants had ceased to matter. All day long, Tommy had been trying to show her that they did, that they were important. This was something she wanted . . . if she could be brave enough to ask. She bit her lower lip and looked away as she made her timid request.
"Stay with me?"
Tommy didn't answer right away, and Kim grew nervous. She looked up and was taken aback by the smile on his face. Her heart fluttered with hope.
"You really want me to?"
"Yes."
"Then, I'd be honored," he murmured, and Kim could scarcely contain the happiness swelling within her. She slid over to make room. Tommy lay down next to her and pulled her into his arms. Kim sighed as she settled into the nicest, warmest, safest place she had ever known.
*
For a second time that night, Kim awoke with her pulse pounding and her breath racing. Only this time, it wasn't from fear. Another dream, but one of bodies intertwined and desires fulfilled. Her eyes settled on the body next to hers.
Tommy had kicked the covers off so she was able look at all of him in the faint amber glow. He was as beautiful as she remembered . . . thick mahogany hair splayed across the pillow, lush lashes dusting bronzed cheeks, and full mouth curved in a faint smile. Her gaze swept across the smooth, hard expanse of his muscular chest and followed the line of his abs until the cotton flannel of his boxers disrupted the view. Without thinking, she reached out to touch him, thrilling at the feel of him. She had never really touched him like this before; she probably shouldn't even be doing it now, but she couldn't help herself. The silk of his skin stretched taut over steel muscles fascinated her. Her hand lingered over his chest, feeling the even rise and fall of this breathing and the steady drumming of his heart. It made her pulse quicken. Her hand slid lower, questing finger pausing at the puckered waistband. Kim swallowed nervously as she realized that she wasn't the only one having interesting dreams. She chewed her lip thoughtfully as she regarded the bulge in Tommy's shorts.
At the first delicate brush of Kim's fingers, Tommy had woken up. Noticing the once-over that Kim was giving him, he continued to play opossum, not wanting to disturb her. He was curious to see what she might do. They had never been in a situation quite like this before. They had slept together . . . well, they had fallen asleep on the couch while watching a movie more than once, and there was that time they had fallen asleep as they had been talking while sitting in his 4 x 4 in Kim's driveway. This was different. They were sharing a bed with little more than a thin piece of lingerie between them, and never had Kim looked at him--or touched him--as she was now. She had scoped him out often enough with a playful giggle and eyes full of girlish fantasies---just as he had often looked at her--but never had it been so intently.
Tommy waited as Kim paused uncertainly while studying his imprisoned erection. There was something in the way she looked at him . . . the way she was leaning up . . . the strap of her lingerie had slipped down her right shoulder, revealing the gentle swell of her breast without baring it completely. It was a compelling sight. The silky pink gown rode high on her thigh, and Tommy's heart raced. The urge to take her was strong, yet he resisted. Not because it was what he should do, but because he wanted to. What happened next--if anything--was wholly up to Kimberly. If she wanted to explore him further, he was willing. If she wanted to curl up in his arms once again and go back to sleep, that's what he'd do without a qualm. Kim's hand drifted closer to his groin, hovering just above the distended cotton indecisively. For a moment, he saw a flicker of nervousness in her eyes. At least it wasn't fear.
He recalled her eyes when she had first come out of her nightmare. He had never seen her look so terrified--small, fragile, vulnerable--in all the time that he had known her. He had never looked at Kim as someone who was weak and helpless and needing to be protected, although the urge to protect was strong. He had seen fear in her eyes, but only a fool never felt fear. Kim was no fool. She had always radiated such confidence and strength of will; her bravery ran deeper than she knew. It had shaken him to see that stripped from her, and it made him ache for her to watch her struggle to regain her equilibrium, to master her fear by herself. The loneliness of it reminded him of his own dark times, struggling with memories of losing his powers and his own fear and helplessness then. Kim had stood by him, had offered him her strength, compassion, understanding and love. That's what Tommy had tried to offer her, and thankfully, she had accepted.
Almost without thinking, Kim settled her hand over the rise under the soft cotton. Her fingers trembled at the intimate contact. Tommy stirred slightly, and she quickly withdrew her hand. Still, she continued to gaze at him, filled with emotions too numerous to count and too powerful to explain.
She looked at him now with vision unclouded by girlish fantasies. She had no illusions--she had lost those when she had lost the life she once led. She knew Tommy wasn't perfect, wasn't the knight on a white horse that she had raised him up to be. He was forgetful and terminally tardy; he could be as full of himself as anyone. He had a temper, was moody and stubborn . . . but he was also steadfast and loyal, generous, warm and caring. He could make her laugh and make her feel things no one else ever could. It was as Tommy had said: somewhere along the way, they had become a part of each other. She couldn't even say when it happened, but when he hurt, she hurt. When he was dark and moody, she was light and cheerful. When she despaired and felt fear, he brought her hope and courage. She hadn't even realized it until she had let him go to save him; she had torn out a part of herself--the very thing that had made life worth living--leaving behind an empty shell. How had either of them survived that cold, lonely half-life?
We're both too stubborn for our own good.
As she looked on him now, Kim knew more than ever that she didn't want to live without him again--even if it should be only for an hour or two more. Tommy was her life, and though they had reclaimed the missing parts of their souls, there was still an emptiness within. She still wasn't complete. The girl had become a woman in the time since Florida, the gymnast a warrior; however there was still a shadow of her former innocence tucked away, carefully preserved, waiting to be brought into the light and transformed.
She knew Tommy had felt that same sense of incompleteness. She had glimpsed it in his eyes earlier: a hunger, a need to be truly whole, completely one. She gazed up at him with eyes that were no longer innocent. She was not surprised to find him watching her. His eyes reflected the same depth of maturity and feeling back at her. Time seemed to stand still. Kim watched as his gaze flickered over her body and noted the catch in his breath. She was conscious of the fallen strap and the way it tugged the lacy bodice down enticingly. She made no move to correct that.
"Tommy," she whispered, almost afraid to speak.
"What is it, Beautiful?"
"Make love to me."
"Are you sure?"
In reply, Kim leaned forward, pressing her lips to his, searing his mouth with a passionate kiss torn from the depth of her being. As she savaged his mouth, she felt Tommy's hands at her waist, moving her until she straddled his stomach. When Kim pulled away to catch her breath, the left strap of her nightgown had slipped off her shoulder. She sat up, her breasts dangerously close to spilling out of the lacy confines. Tommy's eyes were riveted to where the forces of nature worked their laws against her scant clothing. She leaned forward oh-so-slightly, the bodice falling forward, slipping down, baring herself to Tommy's smoldering gaze. This time when she sat back, the pink silk lay bunched around her waist, and her answer flashed in need-filled eyes.