The Prophecy (Daughters of the People Series Book 1) (20 page)

That night, after
a quick supper in her kitchen, Maya put in a movie and cuddled with James on
the couch. Without Dierdre around, they could hold hands and share intimate
caresses and long kisses as the movie played, a quiet background to their
passion.

Maya felt no guilt
whatsoever in taking advantage of her daughter’s absence.

And since Dierdre
was gone, Maya didn’t hesitate to squeeze in as much time as she could with
James, making up for the time they’d miss when Dierdre and Amelia came back
from the camping trip. “Stay with me tonight.”

His hand paused
in mid-caress on her thigh. “Are you sure?”

“I am.” She
settled against him, rubbing her temple across his shoulder. “You don’t have
to.”

“I want to. You
have no idea how much. I just want you to be sure.”

“I’m sure.”

She cupped his
cheek and kissed him, and they forgot about the rest of the world for a while.

After the movie,
James made a quick trip to his on-campus apartment for clothes and toiletries.
Maya slipped into the shower. As the water sluiced over her, her mind lingered
on their shower together earlier, after the first time they’d made love. He’d
taken the soap and run it over her, exploring her as he hadn’t done before, and
she’d done the same, touching him, kissing him, molding herself to him. The
water was cold by the time they got out and continued their explorations in her
bed under the warmth of the duvet.

Now, she hurried
through her ablutions. He’d be back soon and she wanted to be ready for him.
She chose her outfit carefully, a black lace bra and panty set covered by a
short kimono-style robe, and did a quick mirror check of her hair, smoothing
the frizz out with her fingers. Satisfied, she dimmed the lights in her room
and turned down the duvet.

Downstairs, the
front door creaked open. Maya’s heart leapt into her throat. He was back. Her
eyelids fluttered closed and the heat, sated during their earlier interlude, rocketed
through her, coalescing into a greedy, eager yearning. How could she want him
again so soon?

She shook the
thought off and forced herself into a measured step out of her bedroom and down
the stairs toward the foyer.

James glanced up
and fumbled the bag he was carrying, dropping it. “Um. Wow.”

She rested her
fingers along the stair railing and smiled. “Ready?”

“Oh, yeah,” he
breathed. He bounded up the stairs behind her, his bag forgotten, and followed
her into the bedroom. His hands slid around her, spreading warmth under the
slow, steady touch. “That is a spectacular outfit.”

She snagged his
hands and pushed them away, holding them against his thighs. “My turn.”

He grinned. “If
you insist.”

She tugged his
t-shirt off and dropped it on the floor. His bare chest gleamed in the dim
light. She raked her nails lightly across his stomach, and he sucked in a
breath, tightening the muscles under her fingertips. She flattened her palms
against him and explored him slowly, learning the feel of smooth, warm skin
stretched over hard muscle, memorizing every curve and bump and dip of his lean
body.

He’d apparently
vented his sexual frustration at the gym, and she couldn’t complain a bit.

His hands
grasped her hips, digging into the skin there. “Maya, come on. Let me touch
you.”

She dragged hot,
open-mouthed kisses down his neck and over his chest as her fingers unfastened
his shorts. “Bed,” she said, deliberately echoing his earlier plea.

“Ok.” He sat
down on its edge and pulled off his socks and shoes as he watched her, a small
smile curving his mouth.

Maya shrugged
her robe off. It slithered to a heap on the floor. James’ eyes followed it
down, then slid upward along the long length of her legs. She stepped out of
the robe and strolled toward him, slow and easy, and a hot glow sparked in his gray
eyes.

She pushed him
back onto the bed and straddled his hips, lowered her head and kissed him
gently, and he kissed her back, teasing, nipping kisses, beautiful and light,
setting off a cascade of molten need within her. She rubbed herself over his rigid
length. His hips jerked upward, meeting hers in a bold thrust, and she smiled.
This was what it meant to be a woman, to revel in the way a man reacted to her,
to savor his hitching breaths and shuddering sighs and the desperate need
twining between them.

She broke the
kiss and trailed hot kisses down his lean form, nuzzling her nose into the
silky hair covering his chest, dipping her tongue into his navel, grazing her
teeth along his skin above the waistband of his shorts. She shoved them down,
taking his boxers with them.

James lifted his
hips and wiggled out of his clothes. “I should’ve let you do this the first
time.”

“I liked our
first time exactly the way it was.”

His expression
softened. “Yeah, me, too. It was perfect.”

She unfastened
her bra and slid it off her shoulders, baring herself to him. “Maybe we can
reach perfection again.”

He propped
himself up on his elbows, his warm, gray eyes running over her nearly nude
body. “I think we already have. Why don’t you come over here and let me test
that hypothesis?”

“Only if I can
touch you, all night, everywhere.” She shimmied out of her panties and dropped
them on top of her robe. “Over and over again, any way I want.”

“Yeah, I think I
can handle that. Come here.”

She crawled onto
the bed, skimming her stomach over the tip of his erection, sliding her skin
across his, aligning their bodies. “You rang?”

He moaned and
dropped back against the bed. “I take it back. Much more of that and I’m going
to come before we ever get started.”

“That would be a
shame.” She rubbed herself along his length in long, easy strokes. “There’s so
much more waiting for you.”

“Tease,” he said
gently, and she tilted her hips back, taking him into her in one smooth rush.

 She undulated
her hips in slow circles, her eyes on his, her palms flat against his chest.
“You feel so good, James, so right.”

“God, Maya.”

He pushed his
head into the bed and arched into her, and his hands roamed over her body,
cupping her breasts, brushing her nipples, gripping her hips, urging her to
move faster, harder, and she did, working her body against his, their gasps
overlapping in a wanton symphony. He thrust into her and came, and his release
throbbed through her, pushing her over the edge into her own release.

“James,” she
cried, and he slid a thumb over her clit, sending her high again.

Maya leaned over
him, panting as her heart slowed. His eyes were closed, his chest sheened with
sweat. A pulse beat furiously at the base of his neck. She dipped her head and
sucked lightly, tasting the salt of his skin. Would they ever get around to
having leisurely sex or would their need would always be so demanding, so
consuming, so blissfully unrepentant?

“Mmm,” he
moaned. “You’re insatiable.”

“Complaining?”

“What?” His eyes
popped open. He flipped her onto her back and braced himself on his elbows
above her. “No. Are you kidding? No.”

She laughed and
trailed her fingers through the moisture on his skin. “Positive?”

“Absolutely no
complaints here.” He brushed his lips against hers. “In fact, if you give me
about five minutes, I think we can go again.”

He made good on
his word, loving her with the patience of a man with all the time in the world.
Afterward, they showered and fell back into bed, holding one another as sleep
pulled them into its insistent grasp.

Dani sat in the
living room of Dave’s apartment, her gaze glued to Godzilla stomping around Tokyo
on Dave’s TV, eating a bowl of popcorn she’d popped in Dave’s microwave while
she waited for the man himself to make an appearance.

It had been a
month and a half since she’d blackmailed him into this little bargain. He’d
held up his end of the deal, to an extent, but now, just when his information
was getting good, he’d gone walk-about on her. It was time for a little come to
Jesus talk with him, just to remind him of the way things stood.

After all, her
patience only went so far.

A scratching noise
sounded at the door, followed by a click, and it slid quietly open. A moment
later, Dave’s shadow fell across her. Ten to one, he had his gun drawn. Big guy
was a bit paranoid.

“What are you
doing here?” he asked, enunciating each word carefully.

She took her
time selecting a piece of popcorn, picking through the popped kernels in search
of just the right one. “The mountain didn’t come to Mohammed, so Mohammed
picked the lock on the mountain’s door and helped herself to some popcorn. You
should get a better lock.”

He grunted, set
his gun on the coffee table, and dropped onto the couch beside her. He closed
his eyes and dropped his head back against the sofa’s plush leather.

“You look tired,
Davy boy.” She shook the bowl in his general direction. “Have some popcorn.”

He opened one
eye and peered at her, then dipped a hand into the bowl.

They munched in
silence, riveted to the movie. Beside her, Dave relaxed, his body gradually sinking
into the cushions. He was sitting close enough for the heat radiating off his
body to warm her, a not unpleasant feeling. He was at least two hubbas, more if
he’d smile every once in a while, but not Mr. G-Man. He took himself way too
seriously.

She, of course,
had no such problem. Why be serious when there was so much fun out there,
waiting to be had?

The movie came
to its inevitable end and the credits rolled. Dani set the bowl of popcorn on
the coffee table and stretched her legs out, mimicking Dave’s sprawling
posture. “So, Davy boy. Any news on the artifact front?”

He sat up and
rubbed a tired hand over his close-cropped hair. “You are one persistent lady.”

“Hey, you’re
lucky I let you watch the rest of the movie.”

He shook his
head, a half smile flirting at one corner of his mouth. “Very generous.”

She arched one
eyebrow. “Was that an actual joke? I didn’t know you had it in you.”

He grunted again,
closed his eyes, and slumped into the sofa. “I know where all the artifacts
are.”

“Well, why
didn’t you say so?” Dani sat up, bouncing around on the sofa, facing him. “Tell
Dani all.”

“Mmm.” He
yawned, snuggled deeper into the cushions, and crossed his arms over his broad
chest. “Maybe tomorrow.”

Dani gaped.
Tomorrow? What did he mean, tomorrow? This wasn’t friggin’
Annie
. She
narrowed her eyes and ran through her options. What could she do to get Stoic
Dave to talk tonight?

“Don’t.” His
voice was flat, uncompromising, and sounded an awful lot like a warning.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t do whatever
you were about to do.” He yawned again and sat up, rubbing his eyes with the
fingers of one hand as he stood. “I’m beat.”

“So you’re,
what, going to bed?”

“For a blonde,
you’re pretty bright.” He pointed to the door set into the wall behind and to
the left of the TV. “Spare bedroom. It’s yours, if you want it.”

“I know what’s
in there. You were gone a long time and I got bored.” Dani sat back on the sofa
and eyed him. “Aren’t you worried I’ll get mad and, I don’t know, tell somebody
you’re double dipping?”

He shrugged out
of his t-shirt, scratching his chest in a half-hearted stretch, his well-formed
muscles stretching and flexing. “If you were gonna do that, you’d’ve done it by
now.”

Dani’s heart
flipped in her chest and her mouth went dry. Her eyes dropped to the smooth
muscle and the line of blonde hair leading from his navel downward. It
disappeared into the low-slung waistband of his jeans, and she bit the inside
of her cheek, holding back a sigh. Dave out of his clothes was a sight to behold,
shooting him to at least a two point five on the Hubba Meter. That was all this
was. She couldn’t be attracted to him, not to straight-laced, by-the-book Dave
Winstead. No way.

“I could still
do it,” she said, and hid a wince. Where had that quaver in her voice come
from?

“Good night,
Dani.”

He strolled into
his bedroom and shut the door.

Dani sat back on
the couch, flummoxed. She’d totally intended to rat Dave out if he didn’t get
her the information she’d requested, right up until the moment he took off his
t-shirt and her heart went thumpity-thump.

A soft snore
drifted to her from behind the closed door and Dani shook her head. She cut the
TV off, slipped into the spare bedroom, and readied herself for bed, amused in
spite of herself. A well-muscled chest had thwarted her blackmail scheme. She
must be getting soft in her old age, that or going barmy. She smiled, slipped
into the guest bed, and snuggled under the covers. Well, at least she could
enjoy the view on the way to Crazyville.

* * *

The weekend’s
idyll couldn’t last no matter how much James wanted it to. He spent nearly every
minute with Maya, talking about everything, laughing at the silliest things,
making love with her over and over again. He watched her practice with her
short staff, joined her at the gym to lift weights, and went with her to the
grocery store.

The sly, knowing
glances following them when they were out in public didn’t bother him as much
as they would’ve before his arrival in Tellowee. Now, he played along, holding
Maya’s hand, standing a little too close to her, stealing soft kisses in the
produce aisle.

She dug her
elbow lightly into his ribs. “Cut it out.”

“Hey, we gotta
feed the rumor mill.” He draped an arm around her shoulders and brushed a kiss
across her temple. “If they’re talking about us, they’re giving somebody else a
break, right?”

She shot him a
disgruntled stare, but she didn’t shrug his arm off or shy away from his touch.

Part of him
hoped that by firmly entwining his name with Maya’s in the public sphere, it
would help cement their private bonds. She was still holding something back,
something that might be important. She didn’t trust him, either, but he took
the long view more and more often. Someday, she might feel free to open up to
him. He could wait, if that’s what it took, though he hoped he wouldn’t have to
for much longer.

Work took a back
seat to their time together. That bothered him less the more time he spent with
her. He’d been in the middle of translating a frustratingly difficult passage before
Amelia’s visit. Maybe the break would give him a fresh perspective.

That night was
his last night with Maya. Tomorrow morning, they’d leave her home and pick up
the girls, and their idyll would come to an end. Even after Amelia went back to
Connecticut the day after the Labor Day festivities, Dierdre would be there.
With her around, there’d be no more hot kisses whenever the mood struck, no
more long, intimate caresses, no more sex.

He was beginning
to think he couldn’t do without Maya’s touch for long. At the rate they were
going, he was pretty sure
long
was less than a day.

Maybe they could
sneak off campus for nooners.

Naw. Nothing got
by this crowd, and eventually it would get back to Dierdre. Much as he liked
the teenager and wanted her to accept him, she had no business poking her nose
into her mother’s sex life. Dierdre being who she was, though, he was pretty
sure she’d try. That was a line they’d have to draw. God willing, they’d have
to draw it soon.

He and Maya went
out for supper that night in Clayton, winding their way along the sidewalks
through tourists up for the long weekend, enjoying the local bands playing on
the square. Afterward, when they made it back to her home, he pulled her up the
stairs, undressed her slowly, and made love to her to the rhythm of a
thunderstorm breaking over the neighborhood. They fell asleep wrapped around
each other with rain pinging against the tin roof overhead.

* * *

James woke up
curled around Maya, his stomach to her back, an arm thrown across her waist. It
was still dark outside, the sun not yet above the mountains. He snuggled closer
to her, marveling over the perfect fit of her body against his.

He dozed, his
mind drifting from Maya to the camping trip to the translations. A scene flashed
before him in a dreamy sequence, of seven women, a grove of trees, a horse-like
animal, the scene from the cylinder seal, one he’d never really understood.
There wasn’t enough context, and not nearly a large enough sample for a solid
interpretation. He’d talked himself hoarse trying to convince Maya to open up
and share what she knew, and her continual refusals were frustrating as hell. Whatever
she hid from him could hold the answers they needed. Why didn’t she see that?

He murmured and
shifted, still half asleep. The scene blurred, shifting into an oasis he’d
visited before Amelia’s birth. The strong equatorial sun glimmered off the
water trapped in a pond. Trees shaded the banks, offering respite from the heat
to the sparse vegetation below. Travelers through that area visited the
sanctuary often, refilling water bottles, sharing a light meal at the midpoint
of their journey.

A section of the
translation he was working on popped into his mind, rousing him from sleep. He
tried to push it away. God, it was too early for that, way too early for work
and sanctuaries and…

His eyes popped
open and he sat straight up in bed, wide awake. Why hadn’t he made the connection
before? He scrambled out of bed, jostling Maya in the process.

She rolled over
and peered blearily at him. “What are you doing at,” she squinted at the clock
and grimaced, “five forty-eight in the morning on our day off?”

“Gotta go.” He yanked
on clothes and stuffed his bare feet into running shoes. “Be back soon.”

He kissed her
soundly, ignoring her sleepy protest, and raced out of the bedroom. He’d found
the key. Holy cow, he’d really done it. If he was right, and it felt so, so
right, he’d just found a way to unlock the document he was working on, and
maybe something that would help them understand the entire collection taken
from the anomalous grave at Sandby borg.