Ellora's Cavemen: Tales from the Temple II (6 page)

He caressed her skin with lips and tongue, with words and praises—telling her of her beauty, and the delicious taste that filled his mouth. Knowing that her heart was safe, Caitlin let herself sink into his power one more time.

He licked the soft curve of her stomach then placed a gentle kiss at the top of her sex, as if thanking her and asking permission to worship her. Moments later she felt the soft lick of his tongue across her clit. The touch was so tender and loving, it brought tears to her eyes.

Every touch was new, every caress sweet. It was as if he was paying homage to her sex. The pleasure built slowly with languid caresses and gentle touches, until he placed his lips over her clit and gave a soft suck. The sweet pull of his mouth sent an unimaginable ache into her center. She pushed her hips up, trying to get more, trying to find a release.

“Luc, please,” she moaned.

“May I come inside you?” he asked, kissing her stomach and her ribs. “Or are you too sore?”

“No.”

He leaned back and stopped his upward progression. Though he moved with his usual grace, she felt tension explode in his body and realized he thought she was rejecting him.

“No, I’m not too sore,” she said, smoothing her hands up his chest. “I need you.”

The tension fell from his body and his relief was only partially masked by the trademark arrogance.

He moved over her, covering her breasts and neck with kisses, finally pressing his lips to hers. She opened her mouth and eagerly accepted his tongue. Long drugging kisses made her head spin. She wanted him, needed him, but he held back.

Instinctively knowing what he needed, she spread her legs, opening her pussy to him.

“Come inside me,” she whispered—and he was there, thick and hard, the head of his cock gliding into her cunt.

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Tielle St. Clare

Hours of desperate fucking had taught her body to accept his. To crave the sensations only he could create. But this was no frantic mating. He loved her with gentle touches and soft words. Caitlin felt the slow rise of her orgasm—a long powerful wave that started in her pussy and rolled through her body, flooding her soul with love and need.

“Luc!”
She gripped his shoulders, trying to hold herself in this world.

He thrust into her again and again, his muscles clenching beneath her hands. She felt him come inside her, then the heavy weight of his body on hers.

As she waited for her heart to slow to a reasonable pace, she stared up at the ceiling.

Luc thought everything was settled, but they still had things to discuss.

He desired her but what about…

“I love you.” He followed the whispered declaration with a soft kiss on her shoulder.

“What?”

He raised his head and looked at her with twinkling eyes. “I was just thinking I hadn’t actually said that and you might still be wondering. So I wanted to tell you. I love you.”

“Oh.”

He grimaced and pushed himself up on his elbows. “You could say it back.”

“You said I already had.” She squinted suspiciously up at him. “And just when did I make this statement?”

Luc smiled and a hint of red stained his cheeks. “Well, darling, it seems you’ll confess anything under the power of really hot sex.”

She kissed him and shook her head. “Not anything. Just the truth.”

“Tell me,” he said.

She heard the need shimmering behind his arrogant command.

“I love you, Luc. Only you.”

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About the author:

Tielle (pronounced "teal") St. Clare has had life-long love of romance novels. She began reading romances in the 7th grade when she discovered Victoria Holt novels and began writing romances at the age of 16 (during Trigonometry, if the truth be told).

During her senior year in high school, the class dressed up as what they would be in twenty years—Tielle dressed as a romance writer. When not writing romances, Tielle has worked in public relations and video production for the past 20 years. She moved to Alaska when she was seven years old in 1972 when her father was transferred with the military. Tielle believes romances should be hot and sexy with a great story and fun characters.

Tielle welcomes mail from readers. You can write to her c/o Ellora’s Cave Publishing at 1337 Commerce Drive, Suite 13, Stow OH 44224.

Also by Tielle St. Clare:

Simon’s Bliss

Dragon’s Kiss

Just One Night

Irish Enchantment

Close Quarters

DREAM WALKER

Patrice Michelle

Patrice Michelle

“Great, just great. Even Mother Nature’s not on my side tonight.”

Erin Stein gripped the steering wheel tighter as thunder rolled and lightning splintered the night sky above her. The smell of rain combined with the cool breeze blowing through her car vents caused goosebumps to form on her arms. Electricity hung in the air, the impending storm almost upon her.

As if on cue, the sudden downpour hammered against her windows. Erin glanced in the rearview mirror as the rain streaming down her back window magnified the bright lights of the truck gaining on her. She clenched her jaw and returned her gaze to the road, her shoulders tense and her heart pounding out of control.

I have to shake them
, she thought, her mind whirling for alternate routes she might take.
I have to get to Kian. He’ll know what to do.

Her neck snapped back as her car jolted forward, jerking her out of her musings.

Fear radiated through her at the sound of metal crumpling and plastic cracking as the truck rode her bumper, revving its engine. Holding back the scream that threatened at the violent turn of her situation, she shifted gears and slammed the pedal to the floor.

Her car shot forward, fishtailing on the muddy road. She counter-steered to straighten her vehicle, thankful she’d been able to put at least a car’s distance between her pursuers and herself.

“You idiots! If you kill me, you get nothing,” she called out with a hysterical laugh.

Thunder rumbled, shaking the ground and even her car in its intensity.

“A miracle would be nice,” she murmered at the same time a bolt of lightning struck the road twenty feet ahead of her.

As gusts of wind buffeted her car, rocking the sedan back and forth, Erin looked up and saw a tall oak tree on the side of the road sway, then begin to fall. Gunning her engine once more, she swerved against the wind and let out a sigh of relief when the tree slammed hard on the road behind her. She glanced over her shoulder in anticipation to see the truck slide across the muddy dirt road right into the tree.

“Take that!” she exclaimed in triumph, a wide grin on her face as she quickly turned back to face the road.

When her gaze landed on the huge rock lying directly in her path, Erin’s smile faded and her adrenaline spiked once more. Her chest tightened with fear as she jerked the wheel to avoid the obstacle. Too late. Her car’s front tire caught the edge of the rock and sent the vehicle careening straight toward the woods along the side of the road.

When she entered the woods and her car plummeted down a steep ravine, she screamed. As tension gripped her entire body, she clung to the steering wheel, her 36

Dream Walker

arms locked in position. It may have been fruitless, but the action gave her the false sense of security that she had a modicum of control over the situation. While tree limbs sped past, leaves and branches clawing at her windows and reality hurled toward her at an accelerated speed, Erin accepted her fate. Regret washed over her that she had failed.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she prayed for a swift, painless death.

The sudden, jarring impact caused her head to slam into the steering wheel. As excruciating pain pierced her skull, a fleeting thought occurred:
why the hell didn’t the
airbag…

She didn’t get to complete the thought as she succumbed to
blissful oblivion.

* * * * *

Erin awoke to the sound of men yelling. A man’s voice called out, then faded in the distance as if he quickly moved away. Sharp pain entered her head as she tried to turn toward the noises she heard. Torrential rain beat down on the roof above her, while every single drop echoed in her aching head like a jackhammer.

She slowly opened her eyes to see a man, his long, dark, wet hair plastered to his head and shoulders, grab the man trying to open her car door. Erin gasped and pulled away when she recognized the bald man right outside her window as one of the men who’d been chasing her.

The stranger yanked her pursuer back and threw him twenty feet into the woods as if he weighed no more than a pillow.

She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. Did she just see what she thought she saw?

While she started in shock, the stranger tried to open her crushed car door. When the door didn’t budge, determination filled his expression. Apprehension gripped her as he grasped the handle and yelled out as he yanked hard, pulling the whole panel off its hinges.

Her eyes widened and her heart jerked at the superhuman strength. Oh yeah, no way did she miss that one!

She shrunk away when he leaned in the car and started to unbuckle her seat belt.

“You just pulled my door off my car as easy as a soda can tab.” Her words came out in a croak but she needed to hear it said out loud in order to believe it.

The stranger flashed her a sheepish smile, then shrugged. “Adrenaline, I suppose.”

Gently touching her forehead, he asked in a concerned tone, “Are you all right?”

“I—I think so.” Her hand shook as she tried to raise it to her sore head.

He clasped her hand in a warm, firm grip. Glancing at her, he used his other hand to touch her forehead once more. “You have quite a knot here.”

His fingers lingered on her hairline, and then moved to her temple. Through the fog of the surreal situation, Erin realized he touched her in a familiar manner, as if he knew 37

Patrice Michelle

her. She stared at his handsome face while she marveled at the warmth his fingers emanated despite the cold rain that soaked his body. How could he be so warm?

“Let’s get you out of here before these men come to,” he said as he released her hand and unbuckled her seatbelt.

When he lifted her out of the car, cold rain drenched her white button-down blouse and floral rayon skirt. She clung to his broad shoulders and leaned closer to his warmth. Even through his wet chambray shirt, heat radiated off him as if he were her own personal furnace.

Setting her feet on the ground, he held her arms to steady her. As the man regarded her, Erin had to look up to meet his striking emerald gaze. Even in the dark his eyes appeared to reflect a depth in them she’d never seen in another person before. Man, he had to be at least six feet five, she thought. At five feet nine inches, she didn’t run across many men where she had to make an effort to meet their gaze.

“Can you walk?”

“I think so.” She started to take a step and stumbled, gasping at the dizziness in her head.

He quickly picked her back up in his arms, replying in an amused tone, “I think maybe not quite yet.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you for helping me, um, I don’t even know your name—”

The distinct clanking sound of metal slamming against metal drew their attention.

They both stared at the tranquilizer dart imbedded in her car’s side door less than a foot away—a little too close for comfort.

“We need to go,” the dark-haired man said in a serious tone as he shifted her in his arms and threw her across his shoulder before he took off into the ravine at breakneck speed.

The deeper into the woods he ran, the denser and darker it became until a different kind of fear began to well up inside her. He may have just saved her life, but the man was still a total stranger. And she was alone with him. Erin stiffened against him, her heart racing despite the pain in her head.

“Where are you taking me? And…and…I still don’t know your name,” she managed to wheeze out between the jolts to her body caused by his running.

The stranger slowed his pace. When he finally stopped, he let her body slide down his chest until he cradled her in his arms once more. He met her gaze, his dark eyebrows drawing together. While his head briefly sheltered her face from the driving rain, Erin took advantage of his intense perusal and stared back, mesmerized by his striking emerald gaze.

Cold rain ran off his straight nose and high cheekbones in rivulets, the trails of water landing on her throat and chest as he spoke, “I heard your vehicle crash and came to investigate. When I approached, I saw two men surrounding your car, holding 38

Dream Walker

guns.” He paused. A muscle jumped in his jaw as if he tried hard to remain calm before he finally continued, “I sensed they meant to harm you.” He looked up and started walking again. “My home isn’t much further.”

Somewhat relieved at his explanation, Erin peeked over his shoulder to see if the men had pursued them. But the rain came down so hard around them she couldn’t see more than three feet in front of her.

The seriousness of her situation—the fact that her boss had betrayed her, was even willing to use violence to get what he wanted, sank home as this stranger carried her to his secluded house. Having lost her adoptive parents to cancer and old age within five years of each other, she had no one to turn to except Kian. The fact that her car looked like an oversized accordion, didn’t inspire confidence she’d be seeing him any time soon. Trust. She had to trust someone. Did she really have a choice?

“I’m Erin Stein.” She braced herself for the inevitable ribbing her name always wrought. As a brainy physicist, her first initial and last name, E. Stein, had been the bane of her existence and the butt of way too many Einstein jokes that stuck over the years. Half her colleagues called her Ein instead of Erin.

He stopped walking and his dark gaze searched her face once more before sliding down her neck to the wet shirt clinging to her breasts. “Eriana. I like your name.”