Leopard 02 - Wild Rain

hard to think of giving that up, or taking a chance of never seeing it again because you won’t look at me the same way after I talk to you about who and what I really am.”
    She always did the unexpected. Rachael laughed softly. “And you must have forgotten who you’re talking to, Rio. The woman with the million-dollar price on her head. Has it occurred to you, I’m a pariah in society?”
    “I know exactly whom I’m talking to,” he said.
    Rachael stretched her leg out in front of her, careful not to jar it. She had to use both hands, even the broken one, in order to ease her leg fully off the bed. Blood rushed, causing pins and needles to add to the throbbing pain. That immediately drew his attention. Rio half turned, a small frown on his face.
    “Are you going somewhere?”

    “Just stretching. I thought you could make me one of those drinks. I’m getting addicted to them. What do you put in them, anyway? Just for future reference, you understand.” She straightened her shirt, pulled at the tails to try to cover her bare thighs. The edges were gaping open over her breasts and she awkwardly tried to button it with one hand.
    Rio dragged on a pair of jeans before crossing over to the bed. “The drink is made from fruit nectar and whatever fruit I happen to harvest that morning.” He hunkered down beside her and reached for the edges of the shirt—his shirt. It looked completely different on her. His knuckles brushed her full breasts. He could feel warmth and velvet-soft flesh. His knuckles lingered, deliberately rubbed gently.
    He hadn’t planned to take advantage, it just happened. He couldn’t resist the temptation. He looked up at her face, his fingers curled around the edges of his shirt.
    Rachael was instantly trapped in the vivid intensity of his gaze. She fell, tumbled, dropped into his gaze. Leaned into him in invitation. His mouth took possession of hers, a fusing together, wild and tumultuous, neither quite in control. His fingers moved between her breasts, sliding the button aside to allow his hands to cup the soft weight. She gasped, arched into his palm, pushed closer, her body every bit as sensitive as in her catlike dream. She needed his touch, ached for it, dreamed of it. Was familiar with it. His mouth was pure male, driving every thought from her head so that she simply wound her arms around his neck and held him to her.
    His lips blazed a trail of fire from her mouth to her chin. His teeth nibbled, moved lower to her throat, his tongue swirling along her skin just to taste her. Rachael cried out when his mouth settled over her breast, when his fingers tangled in her hair, when he spread a blazing fire through her body.
    “Why did you have to put your jeans on this one time?” Rachael complained, her voice breathless.
    “Just this once, wouldn’t it be all right to forget everything and just be together?” The ache and the need were raw. She heard it and knew he did too.
    “Damn it, Rachael.” His tongue swirled over her taut nipple. He rested his forehead against her sternum, his breath warm on her breasts. “Did you have to make me think? If I take advantage of you while you’re injured and you can’t walk away, how are you going to feel tomorrow when you have to hear everything I have to say?”
    His hands cupped her breasts, thumbs stroking, his mouth hot and moist and filled with passion as he suckled, just one more time. His body was so full and painful he moaned, an involuntary protest against the tight material covering his erection.
    Rachael tugged at his zipper, thankful he wasn’t wearing his button-fly jeans. “Take them off, Rio.”
    He reluctantly left the haven of her breasts to stand so he could drag off the jeans and kick them aside.
    He was standing between her legs, and Rachael simply leaned into him, her hands cupping his testicles and her mouth sliding over his erection. Hot silk surrounded him, gripped him, her tongue dancing and teasing. The rush hit him like a fireball, nearly blew out the top of his head. She was doing something with her fingertips, stroking and caressing until he thought he’d go out of his mind. He heard a sound escaping his throat, something between a growl and a groan, but he couldn’t stop it.
    “Rachael, sestrilla, you’re killing me.” He didn’t want her to stop, but if she didn’t he was going to disgrace himself. There would be no chance to satisfy her. He put his hands on her shoulders to press her back.