Lost Wanderer Awakened - Book One of the Airendell Chronicles (8 page)

“It was just a dream, remember?” Lucian
places his cool fingers under her chin and tilts her face up toward
his own.

Deidra’s eyes lock on his lips, and she gulps
and nods. The desire to kiss him nearly overwhelms her and leaves
her feeling insecure, aroused and confused as hell. She stiffens
and tries to move off his lap.

“No baby, don’t pull away from me. Why do you
always do that?” he asks quietly in frustration.

His use of that endearment makes everything
south of her waist clench and she refuses to look at him for a
moment. “I don’t know,” she lies. Her need for him makes her feel
vulnerable and ashamed. This causes her to feel angry with herself
and desperate to get away.

She gathers her courage and looks into his
beautiful luminescent blue eyes; “It’s just that I don’t want to
need... I don’t deserve... Hell! Let go of me!” she grinds out
between clenched teeth. “I am acting like an idiot.”

“No, you aren’t.” He firmly holds her cradled
in his arms as she tries to push away. “Do you really want me to
let go of you? I don‘t think so,” he says gently.

“I know. I just feel like I should,” she
whispers. She closes her eyes and sits there silently for a few
minutes letting him hold her, taking comfort from him. And then she
speaks very quietly, “I am so damn close to crossing a line and
making a huge mistake with you, Lucian.”

She tries again to move away. When he won’t
release her she suddenly stops trying to get away, and moves her
hands up to encircle his neck and peers into his eyes. “I’m gonna
do a big piece of stupid if I don’t get up right now!”

Lucian’s laugh is low and throaty as he bends
down to nuzzle her neck with his chilly lips. “Oh really, baby?” he
taunts gently. “A big piece of stupid, huh?”

“The biggest,” she sighs.

His lips on her neck ignite a fire deep in
her core, awakening urges she been suppressing for months, no
years. She tugs his face from her neck, looks him squarely in his
beautiful blue eyes, “Yeah, probably the biggest, stupidest ever, I
think,” she murmurs as she places her hands on either side of his
face, and looks into those beautiful, otherworldly eyes. And then
she kisses him before she has a chance to think any more about what
she’s doing.

At first she simply brushes her lips across
his. The kiss quickly becomes tender and lingering. His arms
tighten their hold on her body. His perfect hard lips are gentle,
yet just as urgent as her own. She wonders at the coolness of them
and at the intense heat that she feels on her skin at their
contact. She stifles a very school girl like giggle because the
whiskers do indeed tickle, slightly.

She marvels at the joy the sensations of
kissing him evoke in her. A blissful sigh escapes her lips because
she feels like she has returned home, as though she has kissed this
beautiful man thousands of times before. “How odd,” she muses
silently as her lips travel down to his chin, to his throat, and
collarbone, before trailing back to his lips slowly.

She slips her hands from his face to the back
of his head and winds her fingers in his thick, soft hair. She
sighs because it is even softer than she had imagined. Slowly, she
edges her fingers down from his hair to the back of his neck to
stroke the cold, perfect contours beneath the collar of his shirt.
This causes him to open his mouth slightly and exhale into her
greedy mouth.

She breathes in his scent, and feels truly
intoxicated. Her breath is coming in ragged gasps. The heat is
rising rapidly in her body. Her need for him is growing at a
startling rate as she gently bites his bottom lip before kissing it
sweetly. She savors his taste, the firmness of his flesh, even the
surprising coolness of his skin. She savors everything about Lucian
Michaels.

She rises up slightly and somehow straddles
his lap, despite her wrecked leg and hip. He puts his hands on her
hips, kneading her supple, yielding flesh gently through the thin
cotton pajama pants as he moans her name. This new, more intimate
contact causes yet another fire to flare intensely in her body. She
knows that she is breathing hard but she isn’t embarrassed about it
because this beautiful, perfect man is similarly affected.

His arousal is obvious when he pulls her body
to his as she straddles his lap and deepens the kiss. She sighs
happily to know that he too is excited by their intimate contact.
She lets herself think that maybe this isn’t a mistake. She trails
her fingers around his throat, and eagerly fumbles to quickly undo
the buttons of his shirt with her trembling hands. Once his shirt
is open, she quickly slides her hands up his chest and pushes the
shirt back off of his shoulders. “You are beautifully made, Luca,”
she whispers huskily into his eager lips.

His cool, pale hands move from her hips up
her back, gently, slowly leaving a red hot trail in their wake deep
within her body. His left hand finds the back of her neck, and his
right hand nestles in the small of her back, gently pushing her
body into his own bared chest.

The coolness through the thin cotton jersey
material of her old tee shirt is exhilarating in an indescribable
way. She knows he must be able to feel her hard nipples through her
shirt and bra. The thought makes her feel even bolder and she
nuzzles into his neck and savors his closeness as he caresses her
back lovingly as he quietly and unintelligibly murmurs into her
hair.

She pulls back slightly to meet his eyes. The
raw desire and loving acceptance she sees in them emboldens her
hands as his lips find hers this time. Her greedy fingers slowly
run up his sternum as her hot, her eager mouth trails down his
throat and onto his chest. Her seeking fingers splay outwards to
trace his collar bones, and then painstakingly work their way down
over his hard pectorals, and his ribcage, causing him to breathe
even harder. She pulls back a little to marvel at his beauty, and
then she eagerly returns her lips to his. He clasps her face
between his hands and returns the kiss with an eagerness that
matches her own. His responding moan bolsters her even further.

Her fingers splay wildly across the ridges of
his rock hard, icy abdomen; slowly she works downward until her
fingers catch on the snap at the waistband of his jeans. She pops
the snap and fumbles for the tab of the zipper. His sharp intake of
breath is followed by perceptible stiffening of his body. He drags
his lips away from hers. She hungrily tries to follow.

“Morna, no!” he rasps hoarsely.

Deidra freezes. Embarrassment and rejection
consume her, turning her blood ice cold and her body rigid. Her
breathing is ragged and painful as shame and humiliation cause her
chest to constrict agonizingly. Deidra clumsily scoots off his lap
to the far end of the couch. She draws her legs up before her, and
wraps her arms around them.

She can feel a slight tremor radiate from
him. She finds this reassuring to know he was not unaffected. She
steals a quick glance at him, but he’s not looking her way. Then an
errant thought occurs to her, “What if he is just disgusted with me
for coming on to him like that?”

Another wave of embarrassment heats her face,
and hot tears of shame sting her eyes. She stares at the floor,
blinking rapidly to keep the tears from falling, and refusing to
look his way again until she can compose herself a bit. As the
seconds tick by she begins to feel a slight measure of control over
her body and seeks an escape route. She puts her legs down and
scoots forward in the seat as she looks over her left shoulder at
the door while she tries to remember where she put her purse and
cane.

“Don’t go!” he says quietly, urgently. His
voice sounds raspy and pained. He reaches over and scoops her up
into his arms and plants her gently on his lap. “You just surprised
me, baby. I haven’t been … I wasn’t expecting you to… You just
surprised me, okay? I just wasn’t prepared for that today.” He
strokes her face gently and tries to get her to look at him. The
shame she feels make her rigid and defiant and she won’t look at
him, so he quickly positions her straddling his lap again. She is
reassured that he wasn’t just disgusted by her because she can
still feel the obvious evidence of his attraction to her. She
softens her demeanor a little and meets his eyes before
speaking.

“Fine, I don’t blame you. I guess I
understand.” She says quietly before she notices that he has
buttoned his shirt. Shame makes her face hot and red all over
again. “Why would you be prepared for an assault like that?”

She rubs her face and says, “I am so sorry,
Lucian. You invited me over here as a friend, and I jump your bones
like some... Oh hells bells! I bet you didn’t expect to be mauled
by a menopausal old broad today, did you?” She laughs uncomfortably
as she twists the hem of her oversized tee shirt around her nervous
fingers.

“Menopausal? Really? How…? ” he asks, looking
confused.

“Yeah. I am forty-nine, remember?” She groans
in renewed embarrassment and tries to get up.

“No Morna, please stay put,” he insists
gently.

“Why do you call me ’beloved’? Or is that
someone else’s name?” she asks shyly, as she looks away and then
resolutely meets his eyes again.

“I called you Morna because you are beloved,
by me. How did you know what the name means?” he asks as he
caresses her left cheek lovingly.

“I am not sure, I guess I heard it somewhere,
but I was certain that is what the name means. It’s Gaelic, right?”
When Lucian nods she continues, “I had two other girl names I
favored for my daughter Nora, Lucy or Morna. Rolan hated both names
with a fiery passion.” She giggles at this. “And he went totally
ballistic over the boy’s name I wanted.” Deidra runs the fingers of
both hands roughly through her hair, front to back to stave off the
darkness talking about her family always evokes, and then she
exhales roughly.

“May I ask what your choice for a boy’s name
would have been?” Lucian asks softly.

“I have always wanted to name my sons Luke.
But Rolan would have a fit every time I even suggested it. He would
have been in for a rude awakening though if Nora had been a boy. I
would have named the child Luke, and to hell with his opinion.”

Lucian kisses her forehead to hide his smile
and then says, “I am glad you named her Nora, it‘s a beautiful
name,” he admits. “But Morna only suits you, baby, it always
has.”

“Why do you say things like that?” She asks,
feeling perplexed. “Do you realize that sometimes you speak as
though we have known each other for our whole lives? I find it very
confusing.”

When he neatly avoids her gaze, and doesn’t
answer her, she sighs and asks, “Can I get up now?”

Lucian meets her eyes smiling playfully as he
says, “Yes you can, for a price.” When she doesn’t argue, he
continues, “Tell me why you always say you don’t deserve your kids,
or happiness or any other good thing in life. What the hell is that
all about?” he demands gently.

She is quiet for a long time. She seems to be
staring at his lips, but Lucian suspects she is seeing another time
and place in her memory. After several minutes Lucian starts to
think she is going to call his bluff, when very, very softly she
says, “Because on the way home from Aiden’s funeral, right before
the crash, I selfishly wished that I would die so I didn’t have to
live with the pain of losing my precious baby boy. And then that
semi crashes into us, killing everyone in the car, except me!” She
confesses brokenly. “I had wished death on myself, but it found
Kyle, Nora and Rolan instead.…” She exhales raggedly, “That’s a
hard thing to live with Lucian. You have no idea.” She sobs
brokenly onto his chest. Lucian does his best to comfort her. He
pulls her closer to him and rubs her shoulders gently, and whispers
soft, reassuring words to her.

Reconnecting

After a long, long while her tears finally
stop. Lucian loosens his hold on her because she is struggling to
get off of his lap. As she rises to her feet, she mumbles, “Thank
you, and again, I want to tell you how sorry I am that I made such
a fool out of myself this morning. I just don’t know what got into
me.” She looks away in discomfort. She’s very uncomfortable with
the way she has behaved around him today.

Lucian pats the cushion beside him and looks
squarely into her eyes, “Please sit down Morna. You didn’t make a
fool out of yourself. Our attraction is most definitely mutual. I
do want to make love with you, desperately, in fact. I yearn for
you, baby. Can’t you see that?”

Morna shakes her head, and whispers; “No. It
doesn’t make sense. I’m much older than you and I’m this massive,
hulking, mangled, blob of a woman, you well….”

Lucian looks at her with longing clearly
showing in his expression as he whispers; “Baby, that’s just not
true. You just don‘t see yourself clearly.” He sighs and mutters
too quietly for her to hear, “You never have.”

It’s obvious that she’s not ready to accept
the truth of his words so he says; “I just do not want to do that
before… things are right. Before you are ready. You have lot of
baggage to deal with, my love.”

Morna holds his gaze for long time and seems
to recognize the sincerity in his because she nods and sits on the
sofa beside him. “Amen to baggage. But I didn’t realize being a
cougar was part of that baggage,” she scoffs at herself.

“Morna, you are really bothered by the
difference in our ages aren’t you?” When she nods, he asks, “Why?
It‘s only ten short years. Ten years are nothing, believe me.”

“Well think about it,” she mumbles. “Didn’t
it floor you when I told you I am menopausal?”

“I was a little surprised, but not ‘floored.’
What difference does it make anyway? I just thought women usually
reach menopause later than age forty-nine.”