Sweet Evangeline (Moon Magic Book 2) (16 page)

“Eric, I want to tell you something.” She could feel his erection, enormous, nudging her thigh.

“What is it, baby?” His words were slurred just a bit and his eyes were somewhat out of focus. Evangeline could tell he wanted her desperately. She knew the feeling.

“I’ve wanted to say this for so long. I need to say it; I can’t hold it in any longer.”

Eric’s gaze cleared and he sat up beside her, hanging on her every word. The muscles in his massive body clenched, as if preparing for a battle. “Just say it, beautiful, how bad can it be?” His voice was tense with not knowing.

“And you don’t have to say anything back, OK?” She let her fingers roam his face, feeling some of the tension leave his body.

“If you are touching me, it can’t be words that will rip my heart out. So tell me—what are you talking about, doll?”

“Eric, I love you. I love you more than I love everything else in the universe combined.” She punctuated her words with kisses to his eyelids, his cheekbones, his nose, then kissed him softly right on the lips. Evangeline didn’t know what reaction she had anticipated from her confession, but what she got was not what she expected. Eric locked his eyes with hers and began to undress. Evangeline’s mouth went completely dry as she watched him pull his shirt from his wide shoulders. The muscles of his chest and abdomen rippled and she found she was having a hard time remembering to breathe. Eric stood next to the bed and unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down along with the tight, white underwear that was being strained to the limits by a gargantuan erection. Evangeline was hypnotized by the sight—the cotton fibers were barely containing it.

“You love me, Evangeline?” Eric asked in slow measured words.

She tore her eyes away from his throbbing cock to answer him without hesitation.“More than life itself.” She lay there quivering with need, still in her blue jeans and tennis shoes, but not for long. Eric slipped her shoes from her feet and then unbuttoned the jeans, peeling them from her body and tossing them aside. The small scrap of lace left was no barrier at all; he tore the panties from her with one swift jerk of his hand.

“So, you love me—did I understand you right?” Evangeline searched his face, trying to determine the true reason for his sudden intensity.

“Yes, Eric. I love you. Do you love me? Maybe, just a little bit?” Eric pulled her to him, spreading her legs wide. He didn’t answer her immediately, rather he cupped her labia swirling his fingers deep within her, insuring she was wet enough to receive him. She was past ready.

“Do I love you?” He put one arm around her waist and lifted her hips, directing her legs around his waist. “Look me in the eyes, Evangeline,” he ordered, seeing that she was shutting them in anticipation of his entering her. She opened her eyes, meeting his direct gaze. The head of his swollen rod, nudged at the opening of her eager pussy. Evangeline tried to come closer, seeking to impale herself, desperate to relieve the pent-up, red-hot ache that had turned her loins into a cauldron of need. Slowly, he began to push into her body. Eric’s desire was so fever-pitch, Evangeline would have sworn his cock was at least an inch bigger in girth than normal.

As he pushed in, inch by inch, he spoke slowly and distinctly. “Evangeline Martel, I adore you. I cherish you. I love you more than I ever thought possible to love another human being.” Sinking into her to the hilt, Evangeline gasped with the sensation of being taken—so completely—by her beloved. She tightened around him and his control broke. Lifting her hips, he began to pump into her, chanting the truth she had longed to here. In rhythm with his pumping thrusts, he staked his claim. “I love you and you are mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.”

* * * *

The time Eric had to stay in the firehouse away from Evangeline was hard. But all of the guys did it. He took his cue from them. They missed their women, also, but they filled the time joking, cooking and carrying on—that was when they weren’t fighting fires, of course. Funny, in all of the years before, he had never realized what some of the guys went through who were really, desperately in love with their wives. The hours away from Evangeline were torture. Not being able to have sex on the nights he spent away from her was bad enough, but not sleeping in her arms was hell. For the first time, Eric started considering making the move to the arson investigative unit. He had been approached by their team leader, and on that job there wouldn’t be any staying overnight at the firehouse.

Tonight, there was nothing going on. Sean had cooked a big pot of firehouse chili and there was a heated game of poker starting up. As normal, the conversation turned to the women in their lives. “Six hundred dollars for a bracelet! Can you believe it? And it’s silver! Just because some guy named Yurman designed it, it ups the price by about five hundred dollars.”

“Yea, but I bet she made it worth your while.” Buck smiled at his friend. “I bought Jenny that purse she has been lusting after, Louis Vuitton. Twelve hundred and eighty dollars! Can you imagine? For a purse?” They all laughed. Suddenly, Eric was feeling uncomfortable. He had been in relationships before, like with Jessica, and he had bought her things, a lot of things. Buck continued, “Yea, she lusted after the purse and after I bought it for her, she lusted after me. Worth every dime.” He smiled broadly. “What about you Eric? I bet the little sculptor is high maintenance. She certainly looked it. What has she taken you for?”

Eric didn’t answer right away. He was deep in thought. A feeling of remorse was washing over him. Looking back over the weeks they had been together, he realized he had not given Evangeline anything. Not one thing. And he hadn’t taken her out on the town, he had planned to—the day that Clark attacked her—he had been ready to take her to that trendy French restaurant in town, but then that had been impossible. Realizing all the guys were waiting for an answer, he replied. “Evangeline isn’t like that. She’s never asked me for a single thing.”

Sean laughed, “Yea, right. All girls like pretty things. She might not have asked for anything, but that doesn‘t mean she wouldn’t appreciate a gift.” His friends were watching him, strangely. Eric was the lady’s man of the group and that he now was acting so out of character was a puzzle to them. ’You are still dating that sculptor aren’t you? The pretty one with the braid, the one that so lovingly molded your…” Sean shaped his hands in the air as if drawing the male anatomy in the air. “…your male business.”

Eric looked at his buddies, trying to decide if they were worthy of the truth. “Dating her, no. Actually, I’m living with her.” Talking about Evangeline made him feel funny; it was if their relationship was too sacred to discuss.

“Living with—wow—you work fast McAllister.” Buck was impressed. “She is definitely a looker and she obviously has a lot of, uh, talent.” Buck was only kidding, but it took everything in Eric to keep from lunging over the table and taking Buck’s head off.

“Look Wilson, Evangeline is a lady. I would appreciate you remembering that.” Eric’s ice-cold words effectively shut everyone up. He had the good grace to feel a little ashamed. He wasn’t really mad at them. Their conversations hadn’t really changed in years, only the identities of the couples had varied. What was really bothering Eric, was the revelation that he had immersed himself in Evangeline’s life and was bringing nothing to the table. She had made room for him in her world, and he did not even have the good grace to buy her dinner or even bring her flowers. But what did you give a girl who could pull lightning bolts from the sky or make balls of light dance on the end of her fingers? After that, a box of chocolates seemed ordinary. But Eric knew the gift wouldn’t be important; it was the fact he had thought enough of her to give her something—that would be what was important. And he hadn’t. Not yet, anyway. Eric was determined to remedy that.

Later, the alarm went off at about four o’clock in the morning. There was a fire in an abandoned house. What made this call so urgent was the houses in that neighborhood were built close together and the ones on either side of the burning building were occupied—by families with children. Eric’s adrenaline rose as the fire truck headed out to the blaze. Hopefully this one would be easy to deal with, because if he could just get through the night tomorrow he could go home to Evangeline and start making plans for their future. The last night they were together, they had confessed their love for one another, and now all Eric wanted to do was tell her he loved her at least a million more times. He smiled just thinking about it.

* * * *

Evangeline lay alone in her bed and listened to the sound of the fire engine. Every time she heard it, her blood ran cold. Odd. How many thousands of times had she heard the whine of the siren and never thought about the men who risked their lives every time they were called out? Just knowing that in all probability, Eric was on that truck, made her want to sit up and scream. She lay back and concentrated, trying to relax. Hopefully he was wearing his mojo bag and the amulet she had placed around his neck for protection. Twice already, just since they had been together, he had come home with some type of injury.

As she lay there, she tried to connect with him. Nanette had told her the more they were together, sexually and otherwise, the stronger their connection would be. And since they had openly declared their feelings for one another, Evangeline thought the ties that bound them should be strong and clear.

Seeking to enter the astral realm was something that Evangeline had been practicing. She lay perfectly still and evened out her breathing. In her mind’s eye, she surrounded herself with white light and began focusing her mind on the area above her body. Mentally, she willed herself to imagine a rope was hanging just over her still form. She visualized herself climbing that rope and soon she could feel herself separating, her consciousness rising above her body, connected by a silver umbilical cord.

As soon as she had control of her extended self, Evangeline began to seek Eric. For some reason, she had an uneasy feeling about him.

* * * *

The fire was obviously arson. There were way too many origination points, for it to be an accident. Eric fought his way through the dense smoke onto the third floor. These older homes were sometimes a maze, with narrow halls and rooms that opened off at various angles. Glancing into one room after another, he assured himself there were no homeless people or vagrants who had sought shelter under this roof. The important part of this operation would take place outside, insuring the fire did not spread to adjacent homes. Then, they would douse what they could and let the rest burn in a controlled environment. He was just about to make his way out of the inferno when a movement to the left caught his eye. What the hell? Then a blow to his head brought him to his knees and he knew no more.

* * * *

Evangeline knew when it happened. She felt the blow as clearly as if she had been struck. His loss of consciousness left her feeling bereft. Panic washed over her. He needed her and he needed her now. Desperately, she fought through the ether to find him.

The fire burned brightly, and Evangeline could feel the heat. She battled her tangled emotions and the panic that was rising inside of her, focusing on pinpointing Eric’s exact location. He was definitely in this building and he was in danger. Not really understanding how she did it, Evangeline moved from room to room. Eric was nowhere in sight. Her vision followed the staircase, then she realized he must be upstairs. How did she know? It was as if there was another cord in addition to the silver one that tethered her to her own body. There was an equally strong bond between herself and the man she loved.

Fear clutched her heart as she made her way up the stairs. And then she found him. He was on the floor and he was out cold. She tried to lift him, but she had no substance. Kneeling beside him, she begged the gods to let him feel her, let her reach him, let her wake him up before the flames and the smoke snuffed his life out. “Eric! Eric, sweetheart, wake up.” Evangeline wrapped herself around him, willing him to open his eyes. Could he feel her? Would she be able to reach him in time?

* * * *

Eric heard her voice as if it were coming from a great distance away. He fought to rise up out of the darkness that engulfed him, and clawed his way back to the light. God, the light! The heat was so intense! What was she doing here? What was his precious angel doing in a hell like this! “Evangeline, sweetheart, what is going on?”

Through the smoke he could see her, just barely. She knelt by him and her face was a mask of fear. “Get up, Eric.” she urged him. “You have got to get out of here.” He could hear her voice, but it was if she were speaking deep within his mind, not in front of his face. He tried to keep his eyes open, but it would be so easy to drop off to sleep.

“Eric, please. Love, wake up. For me. Do it for me. Get up, now. Walk out into the fresh air and the morning light and come home to me. Please.”

At her sweet urging, Eric stood up. She did not leave him. He didn’t understand it. She couldn’t possibly be here without a mask or a suit or any protection whatsoever. But she was. She led him through the thick smoke and the scorching heat until he could see the door that led to freedom and fresh air. “Go on sweetheart. I’ll be waiting for you.” Eric staggered out the door and slumped to his knees in the humid night air.