Mad About You

hands beneath her hips to angle their bodies perfectly for each long, powerful stroke. Within seconds, she felt another climax building, this one deeper, like a vibration at her very core.
    His eyes were open, his mouth alternately stretched in ecstasy and clenched with restraint. At the top of each thrust, she tightened around him and he moaned. Synchronized, they moved together, faster and faster until she yielded to another orgasm. His shuddering release came before hers had subsided. "Jasmine... Jasmine... Jasmine."
    As they recovered together, unmoving, she clung to him and listened to the ferocious storm outside, her eyes already tearing in preparation for the inevitable storm inside.
    "What's this?" he asked, lifting his head. He wiped at the corner of her eye with his finger, then he smiled. "I can't say I've ever moved a woman to tears before."
    She inhaled deeply. "Ladden—"
    "Shhh," he whispered. "Not yet. Let me hold you for a while."
    He eased their bodies apart, then retrieved a quilt. Frightened by the extent of their wrongdoing, she slipped on her underwear while he rummaged for his boxers. But when he came back to the rug and reached for her hand, she went to him readily and they curled together. As if he could read her troubled thoughts, he caressed her arm slowly and continuously, and occasionally whispered, "It'll be all right."

    * * *

    Jasmine wasn't sure how long she'd slept, because when she opened her eyes, she was surrounded by blackness so thick, she couldn't even see her hand in front of her face. And it had turned cold—a window must have blown open because a breeze whipped over their bodies. Beneath the quilt, she snuggled closer to Ladden's heat, then sat straight up when she recognized the sound of an engine whine, growing louder and louder. Had an appliance been struck by lightning during the storm?
    He was sleeping soundly, evidenced by his soft snores. Concerned, she swung her feet over the edge of the carpet, terrified and disoriented when her feet sank into freezing nothingness instead of the floor she expected. She jerked back, lying completely still as close to Ladden as she could without being on top of him. Her mind spun, and she forced herself to concentrate. Where was she? Had he carried her to another location inside the store?
    The carpet seemed to be vibrating... almost as if they were moving. But that was ridiculous. Then, incredibly, she identified the distant lights overhead as... stars, and realized the open window was actually the outside air blowing around them. How romantic—Ladden had carried her to the roof while she slept. She smiled into the darkness and reached over to give his shoulder a shake.
    "Hmmm?" he mumbled sleepily, pulling her closer. "What's wrong?"
    "Why didn't you tell me we were outside?" she murmured into his ear. "I might have walked off a ledge or something."
    "You're dreaming," he whispered. "Go back to sleep—or we could make love again."
    She poked him again. "I'm not dreaming, and I need to go to the bathroom. How do I get back inside?"
    He shifted, wrapping his arm around her waist. "I don't mind that you talk in your sleep—it's a trade-off I can live with." He reached up to cup her breast.
    "Ladden, I'm serious," she hissed. "Where's the light and where's the bathroom?"
    He sighed and relinquished her breast. Her eyes had adjusted somewhat and she saw him push himself up to a seated position and stretch his arms in a wide yawn. Then he froze. "What the hell? Where are we?"
    "Outside," she repeated patiently. "Don't you remember carrying me to the roof?"
    "Jasmine, I don't have access to the roof. What is that noise?"
    "It sounds like an engine or something."
    Whatever it was, it was approaching fast. The noise grew louder and louder. Terrified, Jasmine pressed her face into Ladden's chest. "What is it?" she cried as the roar became deafening and a massive object passed overhead, sending freezing blasts of air over them.
    She could hear and feel his heart pounding in his chest. Slowly, the sound dissipated and at last she raised her head. "What was that?" she repeated. "And where are we?"
    "Well," he said, his voice shaking slightly, "I'm not positive, but I think it was an airplane... and I think we're, um, flying."
    "Flying?"
    "Look over there," he said, pointing.
    Jasmine turned her head slowly and swallowed hard when she recognized the runway lights of the airport, far, far beneath them. "How is this possible?" she