Murder Game

CHAPTER FOUR

Will you promise to leave me alone if I say no after I listen again? Tansy's soft voice held an unconscious plea.

Kadan clenched his teeth. A muscle worked in his jaw, a sure sign of agitation when he needed his usual calm. He wanted to reassure her, but he had his orders, and more importantly, he was certain she could track the killers. Give me a few minutes here.

He broke off abruptly. The spotter may have been a bit out of shape, but he was no fool. There was a hitch in his breath and then he opened fire, spraying the brush with bullets. Kadan dropped all the way to the ground while hell broke loose above him, smashing small branches and bushes alike, tearing up the vegetation and putting Kadan in real peril.

He scooted back, driving with his elbows to move along the ground, feeling for a depression or a slope of any kind where he could press his body even closer to the earth. The spotter was making so much noise with his automatic weapon that Kadan didn't bother shielding sound. He just wanted to get the hell out of Dodge.

His toe slipped off into space and he shifted back, feeling with his boots for a purchase on the sloping ground. The bullets slammed the ground all around him as he scooted deeper into the brush.

Tansy gasped in his mind, her fear beating at him when he needed to stay disconnected and cold.

I'm fine. Break off. I'll handle this. He knew she wasn't combat-trained, and the ugly sound of an automatic rifle spraying the brush, toppling branches and bushes alike, must have been terrifying to her. He gentled his voice. Tansy, I'm trained for this.

He knew that would bring up all sorts of other questions in her mind. She might not be able to get psychic energy off of him, but she picked up on body language, and as much of an empath as she was, she couldn't fail to read that he was as dangerous as hell without all the enhancements, and with them he was plain lethal.

Be careful.

Careful was part of the way he lived-some of the time-but he appreciated that she was worried when she had every reason to want him dead.

The slope wasn't as gentle as he would have liked as he backed down it. He had to dig in to prevent slipping, but the angle kept him safe from the barrage of bullets. Eventually the spotter stopped firing. Kadan could hear him breathing heavily, and then swearing as he discovered the sniper's body.

Kadan took advantage of the man's distraction and rolled to his right, before once again crawling along the ground, this time in a wide arc to come back toward the spotter at an angle. He would have one chance. If he didn't make the kill, the spotter would blow him away-and then he'd kill Tansy. He'd hunt her mercilessly and leave no witnesses.

Kadan's jaw tightened. Failure was not an option. Tansy Meadows was going to live a long life-with him. He risked a cautious glance. The spotter was crouched beside the downed sniper, one hand on the other man's throat, checking for a pulse. His gaze constantly sweeping his surroundings, he reached inside his jacket, pulled a glock, shoved it against the sniper's teeth, and pulled the trigger, probably to ensure no identity on the off chance dental records could be found.

Kadan rose up behind the man, knife flashing toward his throat. The man must have sensed him, because he half turned, firing his gun instinctively as Kadan's blade took him across the jugular. One of the glock's bullets shaved off jacket and skin across Kadan's shoulder, a wicked, burning kiss that stung like hell. He closed his mind to the pain and continued with a standard figure-eight kill attack, slicing down and across the torso, thighs, and then back up to finish the kill. Again he stepped back, careful not to disturb either body.

He moved a short distance from both of them and sank into a crouch, taking a deep breath. Exhaustion washed over him. The sun was long gone and another night had crept up on him. He desperately needed to sleep, not chase Tansy over the mountains. He shoved his fingers through his hair and forced his body to his feet. They would have to be gone at daybreak. He'd leave the bodies where they lay and erase his tracks, hoping the vultures and other creatures would do a lot of damage before either man was found.

He made his way back to the campsite, moving in silence, letting the night wrap him in shadows. Tansy? You still with me?

Again he felt her hesitation. Yeah. She was with him. She was deciding to run, but she couldn't quite make a break from him. Maybe Whitney had managed to pair them, not just on his side-or maybe he was lucky and she was genuinely attracted to him. Cursing under his breath for even hoping, Kadan shook his head to rid himself of the thought. She was simply a good person who didn't want him dead.

I'm here.

He closed his eyes briefly, allowing the sound of her voice to slide down his skin like the touch of fingers. His throat ached and his body tightened. He was in bad shape to let just her voice have an effect on him. He picked up the pace, moving quickly through the trees, taking the shortest possible route back to her camp.

The tent was tucked between a couple of rocks with trees and brush, masking its presence. Food was scattered across the table and onto the ground, where ants swarmed. Wildlife had made short work of the offering.

It's safe to come back to camp now. He picked up the frying pan and carried it to her makeshift sink.

I doubt that. It will be much safer for me when you're gone.

Kadan sighed heavily, the weariness washing over him and regret biting deep. You know I have to take you with me. I'm damned tired tonight. Just get back here and drop it until I get some rest. Kadan meticulously cleaned the grounds, dumping the remains of their meal in her trash can. She obviously burned most of the remains from each day.

How inconvenient of me to argue with you when you're so tired.

Sarcasm dripped into his mind, but it didn't for one moment alleviate the ache in his body for hers. Inconvenient is exactly the word I'd use. Thank you for understanding, he agreed, hoping she'd laugh. He stripped and used her shower, allowing the water to pour over him, although it was cold and didn't take the ache from his bones.

She didn't laugh, but a trace of amusement flowed from her mind to his. Along with it came an impression of sadness, even regret.

I'm sorry, then. But I can't help you. You refuse to take no for an answer and I'm not willing to be dragged off my mountain. I'll have to say good-bye from here. Actually though, it was nice to finally meet someone who has an explanation for what I am and how I got this way.

He caught the thought that she had a lot to discuss with her parents. You can't do that. What I told you was classified information. You cannot take it to your parents. He dried himself with a thin towel and dressed in clean clothes from his pack. Come on back. Talking this way over a distance is tiring. You'll end up with a blinding headache.

Don't pretend concern for me. Now there was an edge to her voice.

Kadan sighed. There was little point in telling her he'd rather not do his job, because in the end, he was going to do it and they both knew it. I'm not chasing you over the damned mountain all night. I need sleep.

That's a relief. Go to sleep and leave in the morning.

The distance was greater between them. She was on the move and had to stretch to reach him. She wasn't used to telepathic communication, because few others, probably none that she knew, actually had the ability-but several of the GhostWalkers were able to use the talent. He'd had plenty of practice honing the skill.

You're going to force me to do this the hard way, because I'm not coming after you. Just come back now before we take this to the next level. He found himself holding his breath, hoping she would listen to him. If he believed in God, he would have sent up a quick prayer for a little help, but he'd long ago learned to rely on himself. He'd seen too many fucked-up, perverted people to believe in a higher power watching over him.

Don't threaten me. I don't intimidate so easily.

He had an instant vision of her rising up from her nap, completely nude without even an attempt to cover herself and dressing right in front of him. No, she definitely didn't give in to intimidation, and he'd wanted her to be afraid enough to learn a lesson in self-preservation.

The water was hot enough to clean the dishes with. He ignored the side of him that wanted her to like him, the part that needed her, and he tapped into the ruthless, merciless side that gave him orders when he was on a mission. He began to whisper to her, commanding her to come back as he did the dishes and set them out to air dry.

He rolled out his bedding and prepared to lie down. There would be no sleeping until she returned, but he could take a look at the missing hunk of skin, sew up the torn flesh and relax while he persuaded her to come back to the campsite.

Kadan was driving her crazy. She couldn't get the sound of his voice out of her head. She resorted to running, a dangerous thing to do in the dark. Twice she fell and rolled, but the whispers didn't let up, not even for a breath. She lay on the ground staring up at the stars, her heart beating too loud and her stomach in knots.

It was his voice, that soft, velvety rasp, in her mind. Somewhere along the way, between the insistent hypnotic commands, he began to talk to her about himself.

Come back to me. I need you to come to me now, tonight. Do you know why I have to do this? Unlike you, living with your very rich, loving parents, my entire family was wiped out. I was eight years old. My father was a drug dealer and someone wanted to take over his territory. They broke into our home and shot my sister first. She was in the living room watching television. She was only twelve and very small. I didn't think a child's body could hold that much blood in it.

Tansy closed her eyes. She didn't want to hear this. Didn't want to see him as human. She'd been to too many crime scenes where the blood ran in rivers.

Dad grabbed me and stuffed me under the floorboards, pulling out the gun that was hidden there. I could hear them all screaming. And blood began dripping into the space from the cracks. It collected all around me until I was covered in it. Until it was an inch deep in the space and I was breathing it in. Do you know what that smells like, Tansy?

She knew. She still had nightmares. She pressed her hand to her mouth to keep from sobbing. He had to stop. The images in his head were vivid, as if the crime had just occurred. His voice was without emotion, cold and dispassionate, but she was in his head and there was rage and pain and a sorrow too deep to express. She connected with those raw emotions, so that tears clogged her throat, threatening to choke her.

Come back to me. I need you to come to me now, tonight.

The pull of that demand was so strong she rolled over and got to her feet, looking in the direction of her camp. She even took a few steps before she managed to stop herself. She couldn't continue to put distance between them, but she didn't run to him the way her mind and body was urging her to do.

The thing is, now, as an adult, I realize my father was not a good man. He was a major drug dealer and involved with some very bad people, but to me, he was my father. He played games with me and loved me and tucked me in at night. Maybe, as an adult, I can even admit he was responsible for bringing a bloodbath to our home, but the child in me loved him. Always really loved him and looked up to him. I need you, Tansy. Come back to me now, tonight.

She closed her eyes, feeling ill. His voice drove her temperature up, but the things he said to her made her feel sick. He was lost and alone. And that person inside her that needed to make the world a better place, that had too much empathy and compassion to be able to even touch people, drove her to her knees at the naked sorrow in his voice.

I heard screams and shots and my mother's voice pleading not to kill my brother. His name was James and he was only ten years old. He shared my room and taught me to play ball. He never minded when I tagged along after him.

She was astonished at the cool voice he used relating such a terrible childhood trauma. Maybe he believed he had buried the whole thing deep enough that he could tell it without feeling, but she knew it wasn't so. The rage in him was frightening. The sorrow devastating. Tansy found herself moving back up the slope toward her campsite. She caught the trunk of a sapling and held on to keep from hurrying back to comfort him. Now his commands had taken on an entirely different meaning. He did need her, whether he knew it or not-and she suspected he didn't know that any more than he knew he was still that enraged, shattered, devastated child.

Come back to me. The stars are out. Do you see them? I never thought I'd see them again. Confined in that space, with blood dripping on me and pooling all around me, I never thought I'd ever be able to be inside again. I don't like walls.

He used the present tense. She took a breath and let it out. Her hands released the sapling and she began walking back toward camp, her feet moving her in spite of the fact that her brain was telling her no. Where was her self preservation? Why did his voice affect her so strongly? She only knew she wept inside for that innocent child and wept even more for the man he had become.

I stayed hidden for hours, days, I don't know. I was terrified, not so much of being killed-I think I was long past that fear-but of what I knew I was going to find. I thought the screams were the worst, the pleading, and I prayed for it to be over. But then there was silence. Nothing broke the silence. I couldn't hear footsteps, or cries, or even breath. After a while I wasn't even certain I was alive.

She hadn't lived through a serial killer destroying her family, but she'd been present, hearing the victims' last thoughts, their fears and cries and pain-filled whimpers, their last gasps of breath and that horrible rattle she couldn't get out of her head. She didn't need an object to touch to bring the images into vivid detail. She was in Kadan's head and the images were burned there for all eternity. Now they were in her head as well. She wasn't good at getting rid of blood and death. Tansy reached up and brushed at the tears on her face.

The first thing I saw when I pushed open the door was my brother's face. His eyes were open and he was staring at me. Sometimes I can't sleep and I see his eyes and I know I was supposed to find them and make them pay for what they did. But then I remind myself I'm not eight and he was dead and there was nothing left of him but a vacant stare, so I can't really blame anything on him. His eyes looked like glass. Come back to me, Tansy. I need you tonight.

She'd seen eyes that looked like glass. Too many eyes. She didn't sleep much either at night, which is why she chose to work and exhaust herself, sleeping in catnaps during the day. If she closed her eyes in the dark the dead surrounded her, staring with glassy eyes. She hadn't saved them. She had waited too long to volunteer. She had hesitated. She had been too slow to pick up the trail. Whatever the reason, she hadn't saved them. Maybe she needed to see it his way. They were already dead and there was nothing left but her own guilt.

My father had tried to cover my mother. I could see that. He'd tried to protect her, but they killed her and I couldn't touch her. I couldn't make myself touch either of them. You know how in the movies the kid always kisses the dead parent or loved one? Well I couldn't go near them. I was sick. And angry. And so terrified of being alone. I dug through the blood. It was so sticky. I don't think I've ever managed to wash it off of me. Sometimes it feels like a second skin. I dug through the blood until I found my father's gun and I walked out of the house.

Her heart began to pound so hard her breath came in a ragged gasp. She was with him fully now, locked into his mind, his emotions her emotions. She was that eight-year-old boy who felt too much sorrow-and too much rage. Instinctively she tried to pull away, to separate herself, but his soft, relentless voice refused to let her go.

Come back to me now, Tansy. I walked for a couple of hours. I knew where to go, I'd recognized the men. They were business associates of my father and they'd come to dinner in our home. My mother had cooked for them. One had played baseball with my brother and me. I knew them. I stayed in the shadows where no one saw me, covered in my family's blood. I've been there ever since.

She was crying openly now. It was impossible to choke back sobs. That little boy, covered in blood with a gun in his hand. She saw him so clearly. Felt the rage with him. Knew the sorrow that still gripped him like a vise.

"Don't," she whispered aloud. "Don't do it." There would be no going back once it was done. No way to ever recover that sweetness, that innocence, that had been inside that little boy. "Don't."

I need you tonight. I'm so tired and I need to hold you close to me. I don't ever do that. Hold anyone close. I don't get close, but now there's no choice and I'm too damn tired to fight it. Come back to me.

She shook her head, but her feet kept walking and she was close now. She caught hold of the branch of a small bush and held herself straight when she wanted to fall to the ground weeping.

I walked through the front door and no one saw me. Even then I could mask my presence if I concentrated hard enough.I slipped into the room where they were celebrating and I shot them all. One shot into each head. They never saw me and never knew I'd done it. I didn't feel anything. I wanted to feel, but I didn't. I walked back outside, stripped down the gun the way my father had taught me, and I threw the pieces into various Dumpsters. I wish I could blame my brother's stare, but I have to take that responsibility. I'd probably do it again.

Eight-year-old boys didn't walk into a house and kill people. Not without something being seriously wrong with them. She was in his mind, trying to find that vicious, cruel streak, or the sense of entitlement that meant rules didn't apply to him. She found a small boy throwing up, sickened by his loss, terrified of his future, still filled with rage.

I've never told another living soul about that night.

Tansy turned her tear-streaked face up to the sky. A shadow fell across her and she threw out a hand to block any attack. Kadan loomed in front of her, catching her wrist and pulling her into his arms, tight against his body, burying his face against her neck. She thought his face was as wet as hers. Slowly she brought up her arms to circle his waist, holding him, trying to offer comfort to that eight-year-old boy.

"I'm not that boy anymore," he reminded without lifting his head.

She slid her hand up his back to tunnel her fingers in his hair. "I know you're not. And I'm not that thirteen-year-old girl who thought she could save the world either."

Kadan's hands framed her face, forcing her head up so their eyes met. His heart contracted. She was so beautiful, her eyes shimmering violet over blue, that strange shimmer over the color almost a silver. He'd been drowning without her and he hadn't even known it.

Need went from his mind to his body, a rush of heat that tightened every muscle. Desire burst through him, raw and stark and all too strong-so strong it felt like a punch in his gut. Lust for her had been there all along, driving his body hard, but now it was so much more. He felt starved, a man possessed, craving her with every fiber of his being. Because she could take it all away, that rage, buried so deep but so much a part of him. The screams and the blood. Only Tansy could relieve the terrible cold that gripped his heart. She could drown out the truth-that he was a straight-up killer, good at hunting other killers because he could think just like them.

She touched his face, the warmth of her body seeping into the cold of his. The moment she touched him, his body reacted with brutal, painful force, filling his groin, pounding and aching with demand. Kadan bent his head to the temptation of her soft, trembling mouth. He stroked his tongue over her full lower lip, tasting that hint of cinnamon that was fast producing a craving in him. She shivered in reaction.

Even with her mind connected to his, she couldn't know how much he wanted her-how much he needed her, how desperate he was just to touch her. Kadan had never felt desperation, or need-or if he had, he hadn't recognized it. Now he couldn't think straight with wanting her. He struggled to keep his hands gentle, the touch of his mouth tender, when he felt ravenous.

"We're in a hell of a mess, Tansy. You know that, don't you?" His mouth skimmed down her eyelids, slid over the tracks of her tears, teased at the corners of her mouth.

She swallowed hard, blinking up at him, a mixture of nervous apprehension and shaken desire. Her hands on his shoulders trembled, her soft breasts pushed against his chest as his breath quickened in response to the way his teeth tugged at her lower lip. She made a small helpless sound of assent, breathy and feminine, leaning into him so that he closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her body against his.

He wasn't going to survive this night if he couldn't have her. Not now, not when the memories were so close and he couldn't bury the rage deep enough. He needed her soft body and the compassion and light in her mind. There was no other way to alleviate the darkness surrounding his soul or the piercing coldness in his heart. Salvation lay in this woman. He ached for her, for both of them. Life wouldn't be easy with him, and the things he would ask-no, demand-of her were soul-destroying, but he knew he didn't have a choice. He couldn't walk away from her. He just wasn't that strong.

He couldn't wait another minute, drawing her closer, settling his mouth over hers, sinking into her heat, the paradise of her soft, moist mouth, his tongue tangling with hers. He stroked, felt the answering shudder of pleasure in her body, the hitch in her breath. She was shy, untutored, and it occurred to him Tansy couldn't have kissed many men-if any. Something dark and possessive flared with hot satisfaction at the idea that no other man had ever touched her.

Still kissing her, he dragged his shirt open, wanting to be skin to skin. His breath strangled in his lungs, his shaft so hard he was afraid he might explode. He needed to crawl inside of her, share her skin, bury himself deep so she could pour the sun over him and steer him away from the shadows always clawing pieces out of him.

Despite his driving need, he kissed her with tenderness, savoring the taste and texture of her mouth, the soft, moist warmth that encased him as he stroked and cajoled, blatantly seducing her. Cinnamon had never tasted like sin. Skin had never felt so soft to him. Control was his code, his mantra, and few things in his life had ever shaken it, and no people, certainly not a woman, until this moment. He felt himself tremble, felt the shudder of need, the desperation in his mind.

His mouth moved on hers, deepening the kiss, while a fever ignited a slow burn in his belly. She wasn't wearing a bra. He'd been more than conscious of that all day, and now he tugged the hem of her shirt up and over her head, clamping his arm around her until her breasts were tight against the muscles of his chest. She felt like heaven.

Tansy knew she was getting in too deep. She was letting him take her over, sacrificing her body to the darkness in him, igniting a fire neither of them was going to be able to put out easily. He had used her own weakness against her to bring her back to him, and now he was seducing her. She wanted the hot pleasure of his mouth, the feel of his hard body against hers and the strength in his arms. She craved the taste and texture of him, but most of all, she needed to take the pain out of his eyes and erase it from his mind.

His hand swept over her belly and every muscle bunched beneath his palm. His fingertips felt hard and calloused, a strange bristle-like stroke that sent shivers of excitement down her spine and arousal tingling in her thighs. He kissed her throat, down her shoulder, and then covered the tip of her breast with his mouth, suckling strongly. She nearly fell, her legs going weak and her core going liquid.

"Kadan?" Her fist clenched in his hair, and her voice trembled. A breathy little moan escaped her throat. Nothing had ever made her feel like he did. Wanted. Wanton. Sexy. Frightened. She was confused. She was drowning in the sensations his tongue and teeth on her nipple created.

"It's all right, baby, I've got you," he assured her softly. "You're so soft, so perfect I can barely breathe."

She watched him through half-closed eyes, his tongue taking long licks at her nipple, his lips closing around her breast, the tongue flicking and dancing until she cried out, the sound strangled as his hands tugged at the zipper of her jeans. Every nerve ending in her body seemed sensitized as his mouth traveled farther down her stomach, his tongue swirling over her belly button. He caught her jeans and pushed them down her hips, urging her to kick them aside. She stood naked, the night caressing her skin, the moon spilling light and shadow over her.

He brought his head up, his eyes nearly glowing in the dark, shining at her with dark hunger, with an intensity that was both terrifying and arousing. As his gaze darkened with lust, sweeping over her, a groan escaped, much like the sound the cougar made before it tore into its meal. He swore under his breath and dropped to his knees, pushing her thighs apart. He caught her hips in his hands and forced her body forward toward his waiting mouth.

Tansy might have screamed. She didn't know. Maybe no sound actually emerged, but the scream of pleasure was locked tightly in her mind. He didn't look up, instead he licked at her, taking long catlike strokes with his tongue, licking at her as if he was starving and desperate for cream. Her womb reacted with a slow rolling, rippling with pleasure, spilling more rich wetness.

He growled something, the sound vibrating through her body. She caught at his shoulders, trying to steady herself when she was on the verge of collapsing, as wave after wave of sheer pleasure consumed her. Her stomach tightened, the muscles bunching, tension spreading with the rising heat.

"I can't stand it." She threw her head back, legs splayed wide, his mouth at her, tongue circling the knot of nerves, until a sob of ecstasy escaped. She pushed against him mindlessly, thrusting with her hips, seeking more as the tension never lessened. His mouth and tongue and fingers stroked and caressed and ate her alive, until she was burning up in a fever of desperate need.

The orgasm took her by surprise, racing over her, body bucking helplessly with mind-numbing pleasure as her womb and feminine channel grew hotter and hotter and tighter and tighter, until she simply fragmented, losing control, losing herself in the fiery heat, giving herself up to his mouth and hands.

Kadan was on his feet, shedding his jeans, lifting her, growling instructions. "Wrap your legs around my waist. Hurry, Tansy. I need you." Because if he didn't bury himself inside of her, he was going to lose his mind.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, mashing her soft breasts against his chest while her long legs wrapped around his waist. She locked her ankles, nearly sobbing with need. He pressed the broad head of his shaft against her slick, wet entrance. He could barely breathe now, shocked at his own lack of control.

He felt fire blazing over his skin, lightning sizzling through his bloodstream as he began to invade her soft body, pushing through tight folds, so hot, like raw silk gripping him, burning him clean again. Inch by slow inch, he sank into her depths until he felt her wince as he lodged against a thin barrier.

"Hold on to me, Tansy," he whispered through clenched teeth. She had to be a virgin-when he was sliding away from reality and careening out of control. "Let your weight come down on me." His eyes met hers. He wanted her trust. He didn't deserve it. He'd betrayed her already by using her own compassion against her, but he still wanted her-Tansy-the real woman, giving everything she was to him.

Her eyes went dark, the shine more luminous. Never taking her gaze from his, she pushed down, while he thrust up. The ripple of pain went through her mind to his and he stopped, leaning forward to find her mouth in an attempt to kiss the hurt away. He waited until she was kissing him back, until he felt her body stop resisting his, allowing his invasion so that he sank deeper into her, until he was buried to the hilt.

He let her set the pace, urging her with his hands on her hips to ride him, to find a rhythm that she could manage while getting used to the feel of his thickness stretching her. He hadn't expected to need her so much, or that he would burn so hot. She was so damned tight, tighter than he'd imagined. The walls of her sheath felt alive, velvet soft, scalding hot, pulsing and throbbing around him, gripping him and sliding over him until he wanted to shout hoarsely with joy. Each moment inside of her sent light shimmering through him, piercing every dark shadow until for the first time that he could remember, he felt alive.

When he thought he couldn't live through another moment of her long, slow slide, she tightened her muscles even more, nearly causing him to lose control completely. He gripped her hips then, taking over, setting his own pace, thrusting hard and deep, feeling like a madman who couldn't get enough.

Her small, broken cry only added fuel to the flames. Her nails bit into his shoulders as she clung to him, lifting herself to meet his deep surges. The sound of their bodies coming together was loud in the night, but he could only hear his breath, shuddering in and out of his lungs as the world burned hotter and his body tightened and tightened until everything he ever was centered in his groin.

Her low keen shattered what little control he had left, and he began to piston into her, stretching the tension on a thin, taut wire, pushing her beyond anything she'd ever considered, until she was pleading with him for release. He kept going, plunging into her, sinking as deep as he could, never wanting to end his time with her. There was nothing in his world but Tansy, with her perfect body surrounding his. The heat and fire of her. The explosive chemistry. The soft skin and the even softer channel that stroked and gripped and held him tighter than her arms. And that scent of cinnamon that filled him with craving.

He shifted her just an inch to apply more pressure to that sweet spot, the bundle of sensitive nerves that had her sobbing out his name. And then her body rippled. Once, twice, clamped down hard, milking and squeezing. Wave after wave tore through her, taking him with her. He felt her body dragging the hot seed out of him, filling her while she pulsed around him.

She dropped her head onto his shoulder, utterly spent. He should have been. He lowered her feet to the ground, but held her, swaying, tight against him. They stayed that way for a several long moments before he felt the shift in her mind, in her body, the sudden withdrawal. He closed his eyes and held her tighter, not willing for this moment to be over. She had to give him this night. One night.

"Don't," he said softly. "Let me have you."

"I gave myself to you," she said, not lifting her face from his chest.

He picked her up, cradling her close to him. "It isn't enough. I need tonight."

She couldn't pretend she didn't want it either. She might never have another night like this one. She didn't touch men. She didn't dare risk it. Yet she'd given everything to Kadan, opening her mind, letting him feel her pleasure, share it, until he'd driven her over the edge, the sensations she'd never expected to be able to experience, hers to hold forever.

"What happens tomorrow?"

He shook his head. "I don't know, Tansy, but we have now. Tonight. This one time for us. Let it be for us."

She wavered, afraid if she took it any further, she'd never be able to get anything of herself back. She had convinced herself love wasn't for her. A man of her own was impossible, and she was too pragmatic to give herself false hope. But here he was, offering her the chance of a lifetime, one night with a man utterly and completely devoted to her pleasure. She read that in his mind, how much he wanted her to feel.

She nodded slowly, knowing she could never resist him, pushing aside every thought of the morning and what she would have to face. There was only this night for them. This one night, and she was taking it for herself.

He carried her to the sleeping bag, grateful it wasn't far. His legs were rubbery and he doubted he had much strength left. Her eyes were enormous, and he found that peculiar shine very sexy, or maybe that was just his body reacting to her scent and heat. He laid her down and followed close, massaging her shoulders and neck. That soft, vulnerable neck.

"You're so beautiful."

"You make me feel beautiful." She loved the feel of his fingers on her skin. There was a brushing stroke he used that sent the most amazing electrical sensation sizzling through her body. "How do you do that?"

"That's classified."

Tansy looked up at his face, so still and chiseled and masculine. So serious. She burst out laughing. "Your lovemaking ought to be classified too. You've worn me out."

"Have I?" His hands shaped her breasts, cupping the soft weight of them. "We're not finished by a long shot, Tansy." he whispered softly as he lowered his head to flick her nipple with his tongue. One hand slid along her thigh to rest on her mound. "You don't feel like you're worn out." One finger slipped into her wet channel and her muscles instantly reacted, clamping down hard. He leaned into her, blowing warm air across her breast. "No, baby, you want more. You feel very much like you want to start all over again."

He turned her body onto her side, spilling her breast into his mouth. They lay on top of the sleeping bag under the stars, his arm around her waist and one hand nestled between her legs.

Tansy cradled his head to her, her ringers stroking through his hair. Each time his tongue or teeth grazed or flicked her nipple, a flood of liquid heat bathed his fingers. She did want to start all over again. She had one night with him. She wanted to learn everything, do everything, make this night last forever. She closed her eyes and savored the feel of his mouth at her breast.