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JT TURNED INTO THE drink station and grabbed a glass from the top shelf.
Brook came from behind and gave his butt a firm squeeze. The glass in JT's hand slipped but he caught it before it landed in the ice bin. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the newest member of the Copper Creek clan. "That's sexual harassment."
"Exactly," she said. "Every Monday is sexual harassment day."
"Since when?"
"Since now. I just made it up."
"Cool." He slapped her hard on the ass, prompting a whoosh. The beige head band in her hair slipped, causing some of her chestnut bangs to fall forward and over her eyes. He finished pouring himself a Coke, gave her a wink and left.
Lola turned into the drink station. Her violet spiked hair was unusually vibrant. She gave a playful nudge to Brook. "Why don't you just ask him out?"
"Why would I do that?"
"Because you like him. That's why?"
Brook shrugged. "You think I should?"
"If you don't, I'll do it for you and won't that be embarrassing. Maybe I'll just pass him a note like we used to in grade school."
"Please don't."
"Go talk to him."
Brook had fallen hard for JT since the moment she met him which was two weeks ago, her second day on the job. She normally wasn't a forward person and didn't date a lot but something about JT made her heart race. She cringed at the thought, but infatuation might be a good way to describe the burning sensation she got every time he looked at her.
Turning into the break room, she saw him take a bite out of his cheeseburger and she found herself suddenly wishing she was a meat sandwich instead of a human desperate woman.
When she sat beside him, he glanced at her.
She contemplated the correct social etiquette to asking a guy on a date. Should she invite him to a movie or out to dinner? Should she compliment him on his fine ass or sexy smile? Don't want to come off too slutty. Or worse. Too desperate. "You like to bowl?"
He grinned, uncertainty in his smile. "Sure. Whatever."
"Want to go bowling some time?"
He gave her a peck on her cheek. "You're cute." He took another bite of his cheeseburger. After swallowing, he rested his arm on the back of her chair. "I don't mean to hurt your feelings but—" She held up her hand, palm out. "Please don't. I got it."
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to find a bucket of sand and bury my head."
"Brook," he called to her as she made her way from the room. "You're really pretty. Just don't see you . . . that way."
She forced a smile and gave him a curt nod.
Turning into the drink station, she sighed.
Lola said, "His loss."
Brook leaned against the stainless steel counter. "Don't suppose you know where I could get a bucket and some sand?"
"Married?" Star asked.
Jags nodded.
In his crazy-ass cult they might have been married, but not as far as she was concerned. She smacked him on the head.
He laughed. "What?"
"I thought you were all about romance. That was not a romantic wedding ceremony. I want bridesmaids, flowers, cake and limos."
"I want you. Now."
She let him finish undressing her. Pulling her naked body over his, he splayed his hands on the back of her head. When he slid his lips along hers, her posture relaxed. He threaded his fingers through her long hair and moaned into her mouth. "Love me sexy."
She frowned. "I thought my first time should be planned."
"I thought you weren't a virgin."
She punched his shoulder. "You're such an ass."
He laughed. "You're first time should be planned. But sometimes things don't work out as planned. Sometimes we have to accommodate for events that are out of our control." Tilting his hips, his hands on her ass, he forced himself inside her, giving her barely a fraction of himself. "Sometimes you just go with the flow." He groaned as he pushed past her barrier, burying the head of his cock.
She felt herself tearing. A white hot pain sliced through her core.
She closed her eyes.
"Sexy. Look at me."
Embarrassed by her body's resistance to Jags, when her heart wanted him so badly, all doubt and fear gone, she looked at him.
"I'm a patient man." With the pad of his thumb, he wiped a tear from her cheek. "We'll give your body time to adjust." He swept a lock of her hair from her face. "What should we talk about while we wait?"
She bit back a laugh, a nervous reaction to Jags' utter nonchalance.
"You're alive. You're going to be okay."
"I'm more than okay and when you let me in, I'll show you just how okay I am." He gave her more of himself.
With her eyes shut, she tightened her grip on his broad shoulders.
"I want to see your eyes when I take you completely."
Her eyes opened. "Not yet."
Her plea brought a wicked grin to his face. "Okay, Sexy. I'll wait."
She frowned. "I'm not on the pill. Do you have a condom?"
"This is the most natural, beautiful expression of love and you want to separate us with plastic?" He visibly shivered.
Star's body grew stiff. "Are you telling me that you've never used protection?"
He smirked. "I buy condoms by the bulk."
"I'm confused."
"You're not a woman. You're the woman. The last woman I'll ever be with. The only woman I want to be with until The Maker takes me home." He crushed his lips against hers, overpowering her, overwhelming her with desire and want, as if his saliva was laced with an aphrodisiac. "Just you and me. No plastic. Never with you."
"But—"
"No buts." His mouth moved down her chin, tasting her. He nipped at her neck. "Never with you." His tone was harsh and grating. He gave her another inch, drowning her moan of protest with his kiss. He rolled her beneath him. Pinning her arms by her side, ravished and loved her, his tongue circling her erect nipple.
All rational thought vanished. Her hands roamed his muscular and firm body. She never realized how modest he was until now, another trait she loved about him.
Licking a path to her other breast, he groaned. "You ready?"
Her eyes widened. "No."
Grinning, he gave her another inch. She shrieked and smacked his head.
He snickered. "I said I was a patient man but I'm not catatonic."
"I just never thought it would hurt this much."
"I will bring you pleasure you never knew existed. Just let me in." He kissed her. "I'm begging you. Let me in." He gave her his full length.
A moan of pleasure and pain burst from between her clenched teeth.
"I'm in," he said, "Bless the Maker, you're so damn tight."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. It feels amazing." He buried his head between her well-endowed chest. "So fucking good."
A burning sensation brought a tear to her eye. "When's the good part?"
Lifting his head from her chest, he shot her a wicked smile. "When you're screaming my name later, I'm going to remind you that you asked me that." Gently, he tucked a wisp of hair behind one ear. "Just relax and feel me loving you." Jags palmed her forehead. Silver swirled in his irises.
The burning faded, replaced by a subtle warmth. It traveled through her body, riding her nerves, as if her blood had been injected with some kind of serum. And the potion was riding the roller coaster that was her nervous system.
"Sexy? Better?"
Star tilted her hips, bringing their bodies closer, urging him to love her. A low rumble vibrated in his throat as he met her slow thrusts with his own. He groaned into her neck. "Faster." He nipped at her skin.
A unique sensation rose from her depths.
Jags had brought her to climax once before but this was different, stronger, more intense, and more intimate. The tingling vibrated from her core and crawled through her body, taking possession of every inch of her skin, her arms, her legs; even her scalp shivered with pleasure. Never in her life had she imagined making love could feel like this.
Her breath a shallow rasp. "Are you bewitching me with some kind of ancient Indian magic?"
He lifted his head and drilled her with his hazel eyes. "No magic. Just two people loving each other. Love me, Sexy."
His slow thrusts continued until a short moment later where her body was suddenly thrown into orgasmic convulsions. Smiling against her neck, his body shivered as he shot his seed, matching each erotic pulse with his own slow and controlled strides.
Covering her eyes with one hand, Star coughed a laugh. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Happy. She was so very happy. She kissed him.
"Sexy?"
"Yes."
"I'm hungry."
Laughing, she scrunched her fingers in his hair. "Music to my ears. You're alive. You're going to be okay. And you're hungry. All music to my ears."
He propped himself on his forearms and looked down at her.
"Thank you for loving me."
They sat on the bed together eating roast beef and provolone sandwiches. Star wasn't three bites into her sandwich before Jags finished his.
"Can you order a pizza?" he asked, "Actually order two?"
She squeezed his cheeks between her hands forcing him to pucker and gave him a hard kiss. "I'll order a hundred pizzas. Just keep eating and getting better and stronger."
Jags took her plate with the half eaten sandwich and set it on the bedside table, along with his empty plate. Gently, he laid Star on her back. He sat over her abdomen, straddling her hips. His cock erect, dripping precum.
"Good heavens," she said. "Again already?"
He leaned down to kiss her but she palmed his chest.
He frowned.
"Tell me something about you," she said.
"I'm an open book. What do you want to know?"
She shrugged. "Well . . . how about explaining about this metamorphosis of yours? What exactly has been happening to you?"
"It's a coming of age thing."
"Like . . . puberty?"
"Exactly. But not really. My gifts of empathy and foresight have matured. They're stronger . . . clearer."
The doorbell rang.
Star shimmied from beneath him and dashed to the bathroom to grab her lavender silk robe. Tying the flaps closed, she leaned over and gave Jags a quick kiss. "I'll be right back."
"Are you expecting someone?"
"I'm having trouble getting on the network from here. Chandler from IT offered to put my files on a hard drive and asked if it was okay if someone from my department ran it over to me." The doorbell rang again. Star headed for the kitchen. She opened the door and waved Rane in. "I really appreciate you running this by. I apologize for my state of attire. I thought you were coming this afternoon."
"I figured the sooner I got this to you, the better." Rane handed her a black external hard drive.
"This is a life saver. I don't know why I can't access the network from here." She scooped her long hair off her shoulders to drape down her back. "It's frustrating."
"Glad I could help." Rane stepped toward the door, his hand gripping the handle. "I hope you feel better soon."
"Oh no. I'm not sick." She hesitated. "I'm taking care of a friend . . . who's sick."
A mock salute. "I'll let you get to it."
"Lover," Jags said, his tone held some bitterness. "Lover who's sick." He stood in the threshold between the kitchen and living room, his body naked, his hands braced on the either side of the door frame, his arousal pointing to the ceiling.
"Jags!" Star rushed to stand in front of him. Glancing over her shoulder, she gritted, "You're embarrassing me. Go back to bed."
Rane's lips parted as if he was about to speak but stopped. His eyes were fixed unnaturally on Jags.
Star glanced between both men who stared at each other or maybe through each other, judging by the intensity of their focus.
She walked toward Rane and waved her hand in front of his face.
Rane blinked and shook his head. "Yes, like I was saying, I need to get going."
Star opened the door. "Thanks."
Rane's impassive expression turned teasing, almost devious. Keeping his eyes on Jags, he took Star's hand and placed a kiss on the back of her hand, flicking his tongue along her skin.
Star snatched her hand away. "I need the Trek reports emailed to me by the end of the day." This time Star's tone held more than a little bitterness.
He gave her a mock salute, turned to Jags, did the same and left.
Star snapped her narrowed eyes at Jags. "I feel like I was just in an episode of wild kingdom. Why don't you just pee on me and mark me as yours?" Her balled fists shook by her side. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Never in his life had Jags felt the level of fury running through him as he did now and he hated it. His new and improved empathic gift had seen the very black of Rane's soul. He had read Rane and done so without touching him.
He no longer needed physical contact to read a person. His empathic powers had bettered thanks to the Transai.
But as Jags tunneled further into Rane's black soul, a vacuum appeared, conjured by his psyche to keep Jags from going insane. A defense mechanism. A black hole of nothingness sucked him from the deep, dark recesses of the most vile person Jags had ever had the misfortune of reading.
Suddenly, Rane was invisible to Jags' new and improved empathic sixth sense. And Jags suspected so was everybody else.
He collapsed onto the sofa. "Posthaka is gone."
"Posthaka?"
"My empathic gift." He turned to her. "And it'sbecause of you."