Chapter 4

L illian felt the mattress sink beneath John’s weight. A cold, wet cloth touched her forehead, and she opened her eyes into his worried gaze. He smoothed a lock of hair from her cheek.

“Lillian.”

She stared past him, through him, seeing the USS Arizona Memorial and a name beneath her finger. She saw a sunny kitchen with a jug of flowers centered on the table. And deeper in her mind lived a rugged blond man, grinding his jaw in frustration.

John stroked the back of her hand. “Are you all right, love?”

She pulled her lower lip into her mouth and pressed it with her teeth before releasing it. “I’m thirsty,” she said quietly.

John shot across the space, located a bottle of water and filled a glass tumbler. Lillian scooted into a sitting position, hugging her knees to her chest. She accepted the water and drank it in one breath.

When the last drop wet her tongue, he set aside the glass. And then he was crushing her to him, kissing her hair, her temple, the crest of her cheek. She clung to his neck, her bracelets digging into her skin.

“What do you remember?” He rocked her.

“I think I was Made immortal on that street.”

He released a ragged breath. “You were.”

Her head reeled. “I think you Made me immortal that day.”

“I did.” His voice was choked.

“Why did you bring me here after all these years?”

He buried his face in her hair. “I don’t know why. I’m sorry. I’ve hurt you.” He clenched her tighter against him and spattered her face with kisses.

The warmth of his mouth stirred her. Her nipples strained against her bodice and moisture gathered between her thighs. “John, I want you.”

He jerked as if knifed, withdrawing enough to see her eyes. His were dark and glittering. “What do you mean?”

“You. Your body. I want you to make love to me.”

“Oh, God.” He groaned. In an instant he flipped her beneath him. His hard chest and thighs pushed her into the bed. Heat pooled between them. “Lily, the sun rose for me on the day you were Made.”

She cupped his jaw, black with stubble, letting her thumb skim his full lips. He nipped the soft pad of her thumb and sent a shudder of need between her thighs. His fingers trailed over her collarbone to the swell of her breasts, leaving a trail of gooseflesh. The first brush of their mouths ignited her. He tasted of male and musk and the peppermints he liked to suck.

She threaded her fingers into his hair and held him to her roughly, drawing gulping breaths of his scent. Before she could part her lips for his tongue, he tore his mouth away and turned it against her left wrist. He kissed her bracelet hard, and continued toward her elbow, lightly pinching her flesh between his lips.

One hand reached under her and eased down the zipper on her dress. The metal vibration of the zipper against her sensitive spine made her writhe. He separated the fabric and traced his fingers against her immortal tattoo.

The bolt of electricity from his touch shot through them, heightening their need. Flames licked down to her pussy.

In one hasty movement, her dress lay crumpled on the floor and John knelt over her with his thumbs hooked in the lace of her panties. As he slipped them slowly down her hips, he held her gaze.

“My beautiful woman. Mine.” Her panties disappeared, her knees were nudged apart and his dark face plunged between her thighs. He nuzzled her mound of curls, scraping them with his rough jaw. She twisted her fists in the sheets, hips grinding, seeking his touch on her hard, slick clit.

The tip of his tongue tasted the crease of her thigh, teasing up the vaginal lip to her quivering inner lips. He moaned as he found the pool of juices. As he lapped at them, Lillian stopped breathing.

A knot formed in her core as his tongue flicked inside her. His fingers tickled over her pussy, spreading her gently and exposing the hard pearl that most wanted his attention. His hot mouth descended, drawing her clit between his lips. He suckled it tenderly, his tongue working in a circular motion.

A gasp escaped her and she splayed her hands over his shoulders, nails lightly raking his skin. His finger pressed at the entrance of her tight hole, and a flood of wetness bathed his hand. Without warning, he speared her on his finger, driving it into her sheath. Immediately he found the needy spot that sent her out of control. He circled her g-spot with maddening slowness. She bucked against his hand.

Against her clit, his tongue mirrored the stroke of his finger, circling, plunging, driving her to the brink. Her inner thigh muscles quivered and she longed for a taste of his flesh.

He tongued her harder, lapping from hole to nub, but his finger grew still, applying the barest pressure. Her hips rose and fell. The breeze through the double doors washed over her nude form and heightened her pleasure. The soft feel of his hair on her thighs drove her to the brink.

His finger began to thrust, plunging into her center, stroking her inner walls. A burning heat enveloped her. Her breath caught and held as he drove her higher. Her pussy began to contract, pulsing softly at first and then clenching hard. Her muscles contracted around his finger, quaked against his mouth. A soft scream tore from her chest and a hot flush washed over her.

John continued to stroke her, extending her pleasure. His mouth softened as her orgasm ebbed away. She grew boneless. He lifted his face, beard and lips glistening with her cream.

“I need more.” She gripped his biceps and guided him up the length of her body. She found his mouth and tasted her own juices. Her tongue swirled around his and made him moan. She fumbled with his fly. The tip of one finger dipped into the waist of his briefs, caressing the spongy head of his cock. She smeared the drop of precum, withdrew her finger and brought it to her mouth.

He held her gaze at she enjoyed his flavor, salty-sweet and delicious. She tore off his shirt and tossed it aside. Her palms skimmed his hard pec muscles, feeling his nipples like two jewels set in the mat of curly hair.

Next she slid his pants and briefs down his hips. He kicked his legs free, hovering at her heated core. His thick shaft nudged the entrance to her pussy. She hooked her heel around his hip and drew him in with a quick jerk.

His cock buried deep inside her. A grunt of satisfaction vibrated against her throat. He kissed a trail back to her mouth, and then he began to move. She met his thrusts, forcing him harder and deeper, desperate for him to fill her. Desperate for him to drive away the image of the blond man. Desperate for him to consume her the way he had always done.

He fingered the tattoo on her spine and their passions flowed between this intimate link. The shocking sensation spurred them higher, up the slippery slope of newfound need. The slick walls of her pussy hugged his long shaft tight. The pleasure-burn deep in her core combusted, blossomed, and her pussy contracted around him. He locked her against him with a cry as his orgasm swept through him.

Lillian clung to John, her mouth wild against his throat, jaw and up to his ear. She gently ground the sensitive lobe between her front teeth, making him shiver. As the pleasant heaviness of release washed over them, a new set of images flashed through her mind.

Tumbling onto the feather mattress. Long, elegant fingers sprinkled with golden hair burning a trace on her inner thigh.

Her chest throbbed as if she’d been stabbed. She pressed a palm to it and tried to staunch the flow of blood.

Oh, John, I’m sorry. I don’t know what this is or how to stop it.

* * *

The man in row two looked up from his laptop and into Lillian’s eyes as she eased past his knees and into the window seat of the jet. While she settled into the seat, a grunt sounded, and she looked up in time to catch John staring down the passenger.

She tugged John’s hand and forced him down beside her. His forearm muscles were tense and his fist clenched. She put her mouth to his ear. “What is that about?”

He passed her a book, but did not reply.

Minutes after takeoff, she became aware of John’s restless movements. She was unable to see his face, but the passenger next to him wore a mottled blush. A lifetime of soldiering meant John could easily intimidate anyone. This businessman was no match for his menace. But that was the problem. In over six decades together, Lillian had never seen John use such tactics.

“You got a problem?” he asked his neighbor.

The man attempted to shift away by moving his legs into the aisle. When the drink cart slammed into his shins, he shot to his feet and demanded the flight attendant assign him a new seat. Since the flight was booked full, the man had to keep his seat beside John.

Lillian put her mouth to his ear. “Why are you doing this?”

“He’s got a case of the wandering eye.” His tone was soft…deadly.

Her stomach flipped over.

He knew.

He sensed her preoccupation with the blond man of her dream. As she thought of that man, she drowned in new visions of golden limbs and firelight throwing shadows over his nude body. She could nearly taste the sweat dampening his carved ab muscles and the hollow that cradled his long, thick erection.

She dug her fingers into the hair at her temples, struggling to emerge from these hallucinations. Her mind was out of control, and her body was following. She didn’t want her nipples to pinch into tight nubs or instant wetness to pool between her thighs. I have John , she thought, fighting against the sting of tears. He knows what’s going on.

“Don’t worry about it, John,” she whispered directly into his ear. “It’s happened before.”

His teeth gnashed. “I’m putting an end to it.”

The man at his elbow jerked. He straightened with a glare. “Sounds good. Meet me at the gate.”

John swelled at the challenge. “You got it.”

As the plane began to descend, her knee bounced and her gaze ricocheted between her usually placid spouse and the man seated next to him. By the time they reached the ground, she writhed with nerves. Her stomach was a sick twist of dread.

The landing gear barely scraped the runway and the passenger lurched to his feet. John followed suit, and Lillian made a play of having lost her sunglasses to stall.

Too soon they disembarked. John towed her swiftly to the gate, where the other man waited with his arms folded across his chest and his legs braced wide. Standing, he was much taller than John, though not as muscled.

She gripped John’s arm. “What are you doing ?”

“Clearing up a little misunderstanding.”

“John!”

“Stay over here, Lily, and don’t interfere.”

She shook her head, sending snaking curls over her shoulders.

“This is unnecessary. Please .”

“Stay here, Lily.”

She watched him stalk away from her, her hands suddenly helpless and empty. She pressed her fingertips to her mouth until her teeth cut her inner lips. As John approached the man, he unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and rolled the sleeves to his elbows. Dark tufts of hair burst free, and the blue-black lines of his immortal tattoos peeked from beneath the white cotton. Her gaze riveted to those tattoos, too beautiful for words, and she hungered for him all over again.

“You keep your woman on a leash.”

Her head snapped to the man who puffed his chest until it bumped John’s.

John’s tolerance faded in a blinding flash. He launched into the man, hurling them into the luggage carousel. Few people milled about the area where they fought, but they stopped to watch.

They grappled on the conveyor belt before John’s fist met the man’s face with a sickening thud.

Lillian screamed and rushed forward. “John, no!”

His knuckles struck the man again and again. Lillian caught John’s arm, yanking and screaming until he heard her. He rolled to his feet, straightened his clothing, jammed a hand through his hair.

“What were you thinking? What has gotten into you?” She hauled him toward the exit.

They broke through the doors into the sultry Seattle evening. She tossed John several glances, but his face was stony. He gave no indication as to what had possessed him to tear into that person simply because his eyes lingered too long on her legs.

As she was slammed with several fresh flashes of her dream man, she wondered how she was going to conceal her new fixation from John.

And what might happen if she couldn’t.