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Cal sighed and collected the dishes as silently as he could. The women of Koakea were stars to give him this one-on-one time, and even if it only amounted to washing dishes in Cynthia’s company, he’d take what he could get.
He made three trips, carrying plates and platters to the kitchen, then filled the sink with warm water, squirted it with soap, and rolled up his sleeves.
“Hey,” Cynthia whispered.
He glanced up to see her leaning against the doorway, watching him. “Hey.” He nodded back.
He stirred the water in the sink until the soap sudded up, then circled the sponge over a dish.
Cynthia sighed and gestured over her shoulder. “Sorry. They guys can be a little…overprotective.”
“Good,” Cal grunted, and he meant it.
For the next few minutes, neither of them spoke, and the only sound was the quiet swish of water or the muted clink of silverware. Well, that was the only sound in the house. Outside, Maui was more alive than ever, with chirping crickets and the distant crash of surf.
Cynthia stepped forward, and they fell into a system without so much as a word. He pre-washed the dishes, and she loaded them into the dishwasher while he scrubbed the pots and pans. Then she stood beside him, drying each of the remaining items as he placed them in the rack. Once again, she was so near yet so far, and he ached to pull her close.
“Everything okay?” he murmured, keeping his eyes on the frying pan he washed next.
“Sure,” Cynthia said, a little too breezily.
If she’d left it at that, he’d have figured it meant, I don’t want to talk right now. But a moment later, she added, “Why do you ask?”
Which was about as clear a signal a woman could send that she wanted to talk.
So he replied, trying to keep his voice light. “You came to dinner looking like you were ready to murder someone, and you’re still a little tense.”
He left out the part in between when she’d started slipping over toward
sensual, as he had.
Cynthia straightened her shoulders. “I am perfectly relaxed.”
Cal’s inner wolf stole close enough to the surface to growl, I’d like to show her relaxed.
Another flurry of heated images rushed through his mind, and he shuffled slightly, fighting the tightness in his groin.
Beside him, Cynthia stiffened and cleared her throat. Cal hid a smile. “My mistake, then.”
Not a mistake, his wolf growled, sniffing the air. She remembers too.
When he reached his mind toward hers, her thoughts were a jumble. But images of the two of them wrapped around each other that night in the Adirondacks definitely occupied one corner of her mind.
Cynthia whisked the dish towel over a pan then hung it on a hook with a sharp clang. A moment later, she spoke in a tight voice.
“I made a phone call. One I’ve been meaning to make for a long time. I just wish I could have talked in person instead.”
Cal frowned. “Talked to who?”
Cynthia let half a second go by before muttering, “Moira.”
The pot Cal was washing slipped out of his hands and disappeared with a splash that splattered suds as far as his chin.
“Moira?”
Cynthia shushed him and shot a pointed look toward the porch. Everyone had gone, but if anyone caught wind of Moira’s name, they would come rushing back.
“Yes, Moira,” she growled.
He stared. “You called her? Why?”
Cynthia set the pot down with a firm thump. “Oh, you know,” she said, forcing a casual tone. “I just wanted to get a few things off my chest.”
It was all Cal could do to finish the dishes instead of grabbing Cynthia’s shoulders and demanding to know more.
“But she might—” he started quietly.
“Find out where I am?” Cynthia snorted. “She’s known for a while.” “How do you know?”
“She admitted as much to Dell.” His jaw dropped. “Dell?”
Cynthia nodded without showing any emotion, and Cal had no choice but to wait for her to say more. He pulled the plug, draining the sink, and scooped the scraps out of the strainer before rinsing his hands.
“Moira had quite a few things to say,” Cynthia went on.
Cal froze, then hurriedly dried his hands. “And you believed her?”
Cynthia made a face. “Some things, yes. Others, no. Believe me, I can tell the difference now.”
Cal understood the bitterness in her tone. If he could have gone back in time and given Cynthia that ability a decade ago…
She hung the last pot on the pegboard and stood facing it rather than him. “So…” Cal finally prompted, edging around to watch her eyes.
Cynthia made a face. “It was the usual delightful conversation. Including her saying, ‘Don’t get too comfortable on that farm of yours.’”
Her eyes blazed, and he could hear her inner dragon growl something like, It’s a plantation, it’s home, and we’ll get as comfortable as we damn well please.
His hackles rose. Typical Moira — posing veiled threats. “You think she’s planning something?”
Cynthia made a face. “I know she is. The question is when. How.
Where.”
Her eyes drifted out the door. The kitchen faced the central hallway, and the view opened all the way across the porch and into the darkness of night. A firefly flickered, and the tiki torches that lined the walkway danced in the night. Cal gazed out, balling his fists.
“Anyway…” Cynthia murmured, then trailed off, looking into his eyes.
Another quiet minute ticked by, and Cal had the distinct feeling she was brimming with more. A huge, oppressive something she simply had to share. But when she opened her mouth—
Something flickered through her eyes, and her lips sealed again. When she finally spoke, it was with a note of defeat.
“Well, it’s getting late.” He nodded dumbly.
“Better get to bed,” she added, in a voice that begged him not to let her
go.
Cal stood still, not sure what to do. Then, idiot he was, he echoed her
words. “Better get to bed.”
It was as if destiny was in the kitchen, determined to fuck up his one last chance by making him say the opposite of what he really meant.
Don’t go, Cynthia. Stay. Let me touch you. Hold you. Kiss you.
Cynthia stepped toward the stairs — the demarcation line to her private turf that no one ever crossed. Her movements were mechanical, as if she were
a marionette controlled by a cruel puppeteer. She paused with one foot on the bottom step and looked back at him with huge, hopeful eyes.
“Good night,” she whispered.
His heart pounded. His fingers twitched. His wolf howled.
No! Don’t let her go!
But pride was a funny thing. It could keep a man from reaching out and grabbing his wildest dreams. It could parade the past before the windows of your mind, making damn sure the pain and betrayal sank deep. Deep enough to form a chasm you could never, ever cross, even if it meant losing your mate.
“Good night,” he heard himself echo.
Still, neither of them budged. They just stood there, eyes locked, chests rising and falling, brows sweaty despite the cool evening breeze.
Cal would have sworn that another almost encounter was about to slip out of his grasp, when fury swept through him. Was he really fool enough to let the woman he loved go?
His blood rushed. His cheeks heated, and his back itched the way it did when his wolf threatened to take over.
No, his inner beast barked.
And just like that, he was striding across the floor. Purposefully. Intently.
His eyes never left Cynthia’s lips, and the moment he got close—
The imaginary barrier that had been looming between them crumbled, and they fell into a huge, hungry kiss. Their bodies collided. Their tongues tangled. Their hands bumped. Like they had to make up for a decade of abstinence in a single, fiery moment.
Heart pounding, he laced his fingers through Cynthia’s, raised her hands over her head, and crushed his lips against hers. She opened her mouth eagerly as he pinned her against the wall.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, please.”
FOR A FEW BREATHLESS MOMENTS, ALL CYNTHIA COULD DO WAS WRAP
her fingers around Cal’s and hang on. Her body was on fire, and her blood rushed.
Yes! Yes! We have our mate back again! her inner dragon cried.
Technically, he had her, nice and tight against his hard body. But that was fine too.
She panted, trying to touch Cal everywhere at once. His chest. His shoulders. His face. A sound escaped her lips that was right on the border of a laugh and a sob, and she had no idea which. Either was perfectly possible, given the way she felt.
“I missed you so much…” she whimpered between kisses.
“Missed you too much,” Cal murmured back, and she could feel the pain coded into his words. The world didn’t often summon something that was too much for Cal, and for him to admit as much…
She imagined all her pain, all her loneliness, and all her regrets, then turned around and imagined them all from his point of view. How much had it pained Cal to see her come and go with Barnaby? Worse, to see her pregnant and then cuddling that other man’s child?
A sob racked her, but Cal’s insistent kiss pulled her back from the brink. “Cynthia…”
He smoothed her hair back with one hand while tangling it with the other.
The two sides of her lover showing again.
Then he let out a low, rumbly growl, pressed her even harder against the wall, and went to work on her in earnest. Locking her hands in place, raking his free hand over her body, pressing his hips against hers. She felt
weightless, as if floating on a cloud, but at the same time, she felt every inch of his hard, unyielding weight. It took a few seconds to realize he’d lifted her clear off the ground and that she’d wrapped her legs around his waist.
“Okay with you?” Cal growled.
She barely managed a nod. Hell yes.
Cal chuckled, regaining a little control. “You mean, right here by the front door?”
She blinked, looking over his shoulder. They were well inside the house, but yes — anyone walking past would be treated to a side of their co-alpha they’d never seen before.
Not that she cared much. All she wanted was him. In her. Over her.
Around her.
On the other hand… She glanced up the stairs. There was a perfectly good wall up in her bedroom, and they could use the trip up to strip.
“Good idea,” Cal muttered, reading her mind. He lowered her in a rush and pulled her up the stairs.
She kept one hand on the banister and one on his shirt, yanking it up to touch the checkerboard of his abs. Cal, meanwhile, got to work opening the top buttons of her dress. Halfway up, they stopped and went back to rushed, anxious kisses, as if they might never get the chance again. Then Cal motioned her onward, and the idea of a bed spurred her on. But at the top stair, Cal groaned.
“Forget it,” he muttered, wrapping his arms around her waist and lowering her to the floor right there at the top of the stairs.
She lay back, tingling with anticipation. “What about the wall?”
“Oh, that’s coming. I swear it is. But first…” His glowing wolf eyes prowled over her body, and his fingers hooked over the bodice of her dress. “You like this dress?”
She held her breath, then lied. “No.”
His eyes sparkled, and in one sweeping gesture, he tore down the front of her dress. Buttons popped into the air, and several bounced down the stairs with gleeful little taps. One landed in the hallway and spun there for a while. Spinning, wheeling, just like Cynthia felt when Cal unclasped her bra and lowered his head to her chest.
She gasped and bucked at the searing touch of his lips. Cal kneaded and teased the soft flesh until her nipples hardened. For the first time in over a decade, she felt desired. Worshiped. Coveted, like a goddess.
“So beautiful,” he groaned.
His stubble scraped her sensitive flesh, and he rolled his fingers, coaxing her nipples into high peaks.
More… More… She wanted to beg.
She didn’t have to finish the thought, because Cal was already there, wrapping his lips around her tight pink beads. Sucking hard, then smoothing over them with his tongue, blinding her with desire.
When her hips jerked against his in a sudden reflex, Cal glanced up with a pirate’s grin.
“Exactly what I was thinking…” he murmured, sliding down her body.
His hands were everywhere, his lips moving steadily downward, and his tongue—
Oh, yes. She barely bit back a moan when she caught a glimpse of what he had in mind. The man was going straight for her core, and she couldn’t wait.
His tongue teased her navel while his hands pushed away the rest of her dress and panties, leaving her bare. Not asking for permission, but not needing to — not with the way she guided his head down. He slowed just
long enough to spread her legs, trace one thick finger through her folds, and take a deep breath.
Mine, his eyes blazed.
Then he dipped his head and put his mouth against her, making her jolt. Soon, she was writhing in unbridled pleasure as he brought her to ever higher heights.
Vaguely, Cynthia realized that might not take much. She’d been living the life of a nun—
Her dragon cackled. A nun?
Well, maybe not a nun, given the number of nights she’d dreamed of Cal and touched herself. But that only had a marginal effect, and she knew he was about to blow her mind.
“You make me feel like a virgin again,” she groaned.
Cal lifted his head, though he kept circling one finger inside. “Again, again?” He flashed a wolfish grin.
She would have laughed — because, yes, he’d been her very first lover — but the only sound she could produce was a moan.
“You want me to take it easy?” he teased. “Don’t you dare.”
If her hands were free, she would have shaken a finger at him. But they were too busy guiding his head back to where she needed him most.
Cal readily complied, and before long, she had to cover her mouth to suppress her own cries.
Yes… yes… She wanted to howl out loud.
Lying sprawled over the top stair shouldn’t have felt so wickedly good, but Cal was a master when it came to pleasuring her. Plus, the front door was ajar, lending the air a sense of danger.
One sound, and everyone will come running…
She was naked but for the pearls around her neck and splayed out for anyone to see. But a freight train was speeding through her veins, and when it hit exactly the right spot—
Cal plunged his fingers deeper, triggering a colossal orgasm, and she groaned. Cal helped her muffle the sound even as he coaxed shudder after shudder out of her.
I want to hear you, his voice boomed in her mind. Me, and no one else.
Let me hear you. I want it. I need it.
His body was tight as steel, telling her he wasn’t kidding about the needing part. So she let the fingers over her mouth open slightly, releasing just enough of her moan to fill the space around them.
“So good,” she sang. “So, so good…”
In her mind, she rose and fell like a ship in stormy waters. Eventually, the waves receded, leaving her high and dry. Panting wildly, she threaded her fingers through his thick hair and lay limp.
Cal ghosted kisses over every inch of her body until he reached her mouth. There, he laid his lips over hers, matching every curve, every seam. Then he swept his tongue over hers in a slow, sultry dance.
Her eyes went wide, and she nearly broke out of the kiss. She’d forgotten the sweet taste of her own pleasure mixed with the deeper flavor of Cal.
She laughed, and the sound rang down the stairs. Cal cocked his head. “What?”
She touched her pearls. The middle one felt warm, which just went to show how much Cal turned her on.
“Something tells me my mother never felt that kind of pleasure.”
Cal made a face. “Please don’t make me think of your mother at a time like this.”
She laughed and pulled him into a hug. And Cal, bless him, managed that without crushing her, even though they were teetering at the top of the stairs. He let her keep him there for a full minute before gently easing away.
“Now about that wall…” he murmured, making her nipples peak all over again.
His voice was deep and needy, and the sound vibrated like a drum. When he stood and offered her a hand, he made her feel like a lady instead of the depraved wild woman who’d just let him strip her naked on the stairs.
Speaking of naked… Her dragon growled, admiring the rear view of his jeans.
Almost a shame to take them off, she joked. Almost, but not quite, her dragon shot back. She stopped Cal with a quick tug. “My turn…”
Smoothing her hands over the hard planes of his chest, she rolled his shirt up and over his head. She paused, ready to admire his body one more time. Then she froze and covered her mouth with one hand.
“Oh, Cal…”
Burn marks covered most of the upper right side of his body, running from the solid block of his shoulder all the way down his thick, muscled arm and ribs.
Slowly, Cal pulled her hand away from her mouth and held it in between them. Then he grunted, and his shoulders drooped slightly.
“Not what you wanted to see, huh?”
She clasped his hand with both of hers and kissed it, making his eyes go wide. Then she took a deep breath. “It’s all I want to see. You. Me.” She motioned between them. “Like we are now, not like we used to be.”
His eyes shone with hope as she went back to touching him, caressing every inch of his chest. The puckered burns, the unscarred fields of bronze.
He’d always been a warrior in her eyes, and now more than ever, it showed. “Now, about those jeans,” she said, trying to joke away the last bit of
tension.
He smiled and raised his arms out of the way. “All yours, m’lady.”
She grinned so broadly, it hurt. He’d used the term a few times in the past, and it had always made her blush. Now, it just made her laugh. If her mother could only see her now. She wasn’t much of a lady any more.
Cal groaned. “Enough with your mother. Please.”
Oops. She’d have to watch her thoughts more closely. Or rather, make sure only certain ones got through. Like the image that popped into her mind a moment later — one of her kneeling before him, cupping his cock in both hands, and…
Cal made a choked sound. “Haven’t you tortured me enough?”
He was joking, but a stab of guilt consumed her when she considered everything she’d put him through. So she sidled closer, slipping her hands into the waistband of his jeans. Once she’d helped him out of them, she ran her hands under his boxers, almost as timidly as she had so many years earlier.
“No scar tissue there,” he said in a low, rumbly growl that went right to her core.
“Not what I was worried about.”
He raised an eyebrow. “No? What then?”
She palmed him. “Just worried about an old maid like me ever fitting a man like you in, that’s all.”
It was only half a joke, because it truly felt like her heart wasn’t the only organ to have shriveled in the past years.
Cal cupped her face in both hands. “Not an old maid. You’ve only aged in good ways.”
She snorted. “Like a fine wine?”
He shook his head. “In experience. And believe me, it’s like riding a bike.
You never forget how. At least, so I’m told.”
His words hit her hard, and she gulped. Cal had been celibate for years, and all for her.
So, fix that already, her dragon said.
She worked up the nerve to run her hand down the front of his boxers. Then she pressed close, letting her breasts squeeze against his chest. Slowly, she wrapped her fingers around his shaft and worked her hand up and down.
“All those nights I was alone…” she whispered, then let her thoughts fill in the rest.
Cal’s eyes glassed over as he processed the image in her mind. An image of her, naked and dreamy-eyed in her solitary bed, sweeping her hands over her own skin. Delving deeper, pleasuring herself as best she could.
“Did you ever…” she started, then cleared her throat.
Cal’s mind opened to hers, sharing an image of him leaning against a wall in a place she didn’t recognize. Someplace dark, dingy, and nowhere near as finely appointed as her private suite had been, but just as lonely.
“Did I ever what?” he murmured, placing his hand over hers to set the perfect pace.
She cleared her throat, fighting the prim princess away. “Did you ever… I mean, did you…”
The act seemed so private, so secret, she couldn’t bring herself to say it. “Did I ever jack off, wishing it was you?” He tightened his fingers over
hers as his shaft swelled. “Only about a thousand times.”
Coming from anyone else or in any other situation, his words might have sounded crude. But Cynthia’s blood heated. Maybe he’d done it at the same
time she had. Maybe the link she’d always felt had kept them bonded even when they were miles apart.
She’d never been so tempted to drop to her knees and suck him in as then, but something made her pause. Really pause until Cal slowed too, quietly studying her eyes.
“Anything you want, Cynthia. Anything.”
Cynthia glanced at the bed, then at him. “Can I take a rain check on the wall? I mean, just for a little while?”
“Tell me what you want, even if it’s to tell me to leave.” She shook her head. “I do not want you to leave. But…”
He followed her eyes to the bed, then glanced up with a knowing grin. “As you wish, m’lady. As you wish.”
He started backing toward the bed as if he’d peeked into her mind and discovered exactly what she wanted. If he had, he seemed to be all in. Because the second his calves hit the mattress, he lay back, tugging on her hands.
Cynthia crawled over him, kissing and nudging him higher up the bed until they had plenty of space. Then she straddled him — too high, but damn, fireworks were already going off in her mind. She dragged her body against his, conscious of how wet her core was — and how hard Cal was. He gripped her hips and guided her lower until they were lined up.
“Perfect,” he murmured, looking up into her eyes.
With a deep breath, Cynthia slid down until the head of his shaft settled into exactly the right place. Then she started rocking, taking him in one burning inch at a time.
Cal’s eyes went to half-mast. His hips moved slightly, coaxing her on.
Yes, her dragon hummed, relishing the tendrils of heat that curled throughout her body.
It did burn, and that virgin feeling was never far away, but Cal was right.
It was like riding a bicycle.
More like riding a cowboy, her dragon cackled, making her draw him deeper. Deeper…
Cal’s hands snuck from her hips to her breasts, making her gyrate and moan. Was it even possible to feel so good? Was she really with her lover, or was it all a dream?
Dreams don’t hurt so good, her dragon murmured. Dreams don’t make you want to breathe fire.
Breathe what? Cal broke in, alarmed.
She dipped lower, kissing the notion away. Then she sat back, and wow, was that angle good.
“So good…”
Her head and shoulders were thrust back, her hips rolling, her mouth forming silent cries of pleasure. It was a damn good thing the guys couldn’t see her now and discover she wasn’t as prim and proper as they imagined.
“Promise me the guys will never see you like this,” Cal groaned.
She crouched over him, grinning wickedly. “Believe me, I promise.
Especially not like this…”
She dipped one shoulder, tempting him with her breast. Cal puckered up, caught the nipple, and swirled his lips around it.
“Or like this,” she murmured, offering him the other side.
He lapped at it, then nipped, making her squeak. Then he drew his hand along the crease of her leg until his thumb touched her clit.
She shuddered against him. She was going to come soon, and come hard.
Still, she managed to toss her hair back and tease him one more time.
“Or like this…” she said, leaning back and rocking harder, letting her breasts bounce.
But the more she moved, the more desperately she needed release. She ground harder, biting her lip against the exquisite pleasure building inside.
Faster, her dragon urged. Deeper.
Cal gripped her hips tightly, jerking up but leaving her in the dominant position. She rocked harder, feeling power course through her veins. For years, her life had been out of her control. But now, she was finally able to take the reins. To call the shots. To release her wild side.
Yes, her dragon hissed as her body danced faster.
Cal’s eyes glowed — not just with passion but with wonder.
You will command armies someday, he’d said to her once. And for the first time in years, it didn’t feel impossible. She could do anything. Go anywhere. Claim her life back for herself.
Claim your mate, too, her dragon cried.
Her jaw ached from the pressure of her canines trying to extend, but she fought them back. Maybe someday, she would be able to give Cal the mating bite and seal their bond forever. But for now…
She leaned back, propping her hands on his thighs. As the angle increased, so did the inner burn, and Cal groaned.
“Right there…”
She pressed harder, surrendering to raw need instead of fighting it as she’d been taught.
Nice girls don’t get involved in that kind of thing. Nice girls don’t lose control.
Nice girls don’t feel this good, her dragon growled. Sweat beaded on her brow, and her pace quickened. So close… Cal groaned in her mind.
In the past, she’d been happy to lie back and let him do most of the work in bed. And honestly, she’d be happy to do a lot of that in the future. But at
that moment, it was all up to her.
All up to you, her dragon echoed.
So Cynthia did what she’d never done. She closed her eyes and let go of her self-control. Every single strand of it until she barely knew where she was. All she sensed was the need to take herself and her lover into the deep void of pleasure for a while.
“Yes…” Cal groaned, going stiff all over.
Cynthia took him even deeper, clamping down with her inner muscles at the same time. Light exploded in her mind, zipping around in little spirals. Cal shuddered, groaning with his release. A moist, hot flash filled her, and she whimpered, cherishing every drop. Then she went limp and dropped to his chest. How long she lay there panting, she had no clue. Only that she felt more fulfilled — and more emotionally drained — than ever before.
Cal’s chest heaved too, and for a while, they lay splayed against each other, a complete, wonderful mess. Then he guided her to his side and spooned around her, making her feel complete.
“Whoa,” he half whispered, half laughed. “Where did that come from?”
She kissed the thick arms encircling her. Her warrior was protecting her again. Loving her. Making her feel complete.
She turned, looped her arms around his neck, and gazed deep into his eyes. There was only one answer to that, and she knew it.
“From the heart, my mate. From the heart.”
Then she kissed him, feeling warm, loose, and totally serene.
