Morena lay in his arms quietly. He nuzzled her hair and dropped kisses on her forehead. She suspected he wasn't even aware he was doing it.
Her head was tucked under his chin and their legs were tangled, her smooth ones criss-crossed with hairy ones. The sheet was only pulled up to their waist, but she lay cradled to his side. She brushed the soft hairs on his chest, fingering the reaper than lay at the end of the thick silver chain around his neck. He lazily traced an unknown pattern on her lower back, every now and then the silver rings scraped across her skin. She had never felt so wanton. Or quite so wicked.
She had not had many lovers, less than a handful. But she had never had a sexual experience like she'd just had with Tig. Ever. Her body flushed with heat at the thought of the forceful climax that had consumed her. The nub between her legs tingled and she squirmed, her body reacting at the memory. She felt wonderfully used.
"You okay?" He spoke first, shifting slightly to look at her.
She smiled. "I'm wonderful." She had no idea how radiant she looked to him. "What did happen tonight? With your cuts and bruises."
He shrugged. "A little run in, that's all."
"Yes, I guessed that. But with who?" She touched the corner of his lip and fingered the band aids on his cheek lightly.
He just shook his head. He had so many secrets. Did he ever share them? Would heever share them with anyone? Would he share them with me?
"Thank you for saving my life." She leaned up and kissed him half on the lips, half on the cheek.
He looked at her and she couldn't discern the meaning of the look. He adjusted and captured her mouth in a soft, lazy exploration. Without breaking the contact, she rolled onto his chest, her legs straddling him. From her vantage, she could rain kisses anywhere she wanted. Before long, she was sprawled atop him, her hands fisted in his hair as she pillaged his mouth. God, she loved his mouth. She moaned as his hands trailed down her back before they came to rest on her ass, his fingers massaging the firm mounds, gently grinding her against him.
She gasped and his mouth captured the sound. His tongue did wicked things. Very wicked things. He nipped at her lips and then soothed with his tongue. She couldn't help herself. She mewed like a little kitten.
He'd just rolled her under him when the doorbell rang.
She broke the kiss. He cursed.
"Expecting someone?" He was panting a little.
She shook her head and then remembered. "It might be my take-out. A couple hours late. I'd forgotten about it."
She made a move to leave the bed but he shook his head, rolling off her. She watched him get out of bed, no bashfulness about his nudity. His body was beautiful; all hard angles and taunt planes, coppery skin and dark hair. He had tattoos on the sides of his shoulders, around his collarbone and one on the inside of his left arm. With only leather bracelets on his wrists and tousled hair, he looked unbelievably sexy. Her view was interrupted by the necessity of pants. He shrugged into his jeans and headed to the door.
Morena got up too and went to the bathroom, dragging her pajamas with her. After a quick refresh, she walked into the kitchen with her white bottoms and t-shirt.
"Your chinese. Idiot kid got lost trying to find your place. First day on the job. Meal was free."
His jeans weren't buttoned all the way and an intriguing arrow of hair disappeared out of sight.
She walked over and into his arms. "Eat with me?"
Something flashed in his eyes and she stiffened. He shook his head. "I can't. I gotta go."
He stepped away from her and went into the bedroom. She picked up his kutte, still lying where it had been discarded earlier, followed slowly and from the doorway and watched him dress. The knife was strapped on, the gun placed at his back.
Involuntarily, she shivered. This is who he is.
He shrugged into his shirt and turned to look at her. She held out the kutte and he stepped forward, shrugging into it.
She didn't know where to look. The happiness, the contentment had all but dissipated as the reality of sex with a virtual stranger hit home.
"I don't usually do this kind of thing. Sleep with someone I hardly know." She felt it important he know that.
"Jesus, Morena," he lifted her chin. "I know that."
I'm losing him. The irrational thought hit her and she felt like crying.
Outwardly, she nodded. "Good."
He looked unsure. "I have to go."
Again, she just nodded, knowing if she opened her mouth, she would bawl.
He kissed her forehead quickly before heading to the door and out. He didn't hesitate. He didn't look back.
She walked back into her room. Besides for the tousled sheets, there was no evidence he had even been there. She sat on the edge of the bed as a wave of sadness hit her. It was like she had dreamed the whole thing. It felt so surreal. But it hadnt been a dream. Her body was the evidence – the red scars on her neck where he has sucked on her skin, her nipples, still puckered even now, her feminine passage, deliciously bruised.
Her eyes threatened to fill, but she pushed it back. All she could hear was her mother's voice ringing in her ears. You give them what they want without making them work for it, that's the last you'll see of them.
It had been the single most amazing night of her life. And she was here alone. He couldn't get away fast enough.
She lay back down, hugging a pillow. It smelled like him. Smoke and man. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply a few times. It was no use. Tears welled and fell quietly.