Rendezvous at Midnight (8 page)

“This mind stuff sure makes the lovemaking interesting.”

She lifted her head and met his anguished, ecstatic eyes, and then slowly raised her body. He wanted to look, wanted to see her body, wet and open just for him, the sweet little bud between her lips erect and asking for his touch but the expression in her eyes was too compelling, too much like the emotions coursing around his body.

Next time. He’d look next time. He’d watch her dampen with need, watch until she soaked the sheets with her arousal. Then he’d lap it up, drive her to harder, stronger heights until she begged for him.

“Please.” He heard himself begging now and wasn’t ashamed. He needed her. She should know that. She had to know it.

Her smile captivated him, teasing him with promise. “What if I went and had a shower now?”

He didn’t have to stop to think of the answer. “Ever had shower sex?”

Laughing, she positioned herself above him and he couldn’t resist watching this time. She poised her wet, delicate flesh above his and slowly brought them together.

She bit her bottom lip and her eyes half closed as she swallowed him up. Captivated, he watched himself disappear within her, first the bulbous head, and then the rest of his shaft, truly a shaft in this position. The sensation was indescribable, so he didn’t try. He opened his mind and shared it with her.

She convulsed, the shock sending her into orgasm. He reached up to catch her hips in his hands, steadying her and bringing those delectable nipples down so he could take them into his mouth.

He felt just what she needed, and he did it, sucking hard, rolling the tip between his tongue and the roof of his mouth, hearing her cries of completion with triumph in his heart, triumph he didn’t even try to hide from her.

In time they would become truly one, their minds dwelling in each other’s all the time, so habitual being separate would be the oddity. He welcomed it. All his life he’d enjoyed being alone, the sole determiner of his fate, but now he was ready to share. Willing and eager to share. He prayed she’d feel the same.

When he let her nipple go with a satisfying slurp, he immediately pulled the other one in. She moaned softly and lifted up, sliding down. He felt her sweet spot, where she would most want to be touched inside and her frustration that she couldn’t find it. The position was wrong for her. Reluctantly he let her other nipple go and pushed her up a little, so his angle of entry changed.

That was better. She moved, and he felt the flicker of pleasure when he slid across the right place.

He built on it, his hands on her hips helping her to rise and fall at just the right tilt, each stroke pushing her fractionally closer, emotion and sensation making her hypersensitive. Her orgasm shattered around them both, bathing them in a consummation neither could have achieved alone.

With the intensity of her peak still echoing around his mind, heating his blood, he came in a rush. He was unable to speak the words he wanted to give her, only gasp helplessly and hang on for the ride.

Unbelievable.

This time she fell onto him, and he cradled her close, unwilling to let her go. When the sweat on her body cooled, he drew up the sheet and reached with his mind for the comforter, pulling it gently over them both.

They dozed, totally at peace. No restive spirit arrived to disturb his tranquility, no mortals knocked at the door to interfere with their happiness. He wanted this, and he wanted it for the rest of his life.

***

Dressed in the pants and blouse she’d worn the day before, Lisa still felt like a different person as she headed for the hallway outside suite number one to complete her introductory piece for the program. After sleeping, they had showered and Michael had gone to the dining area to pick up some food. He’d come back with sandwiches, a salad and a bottle of cold, crisp white wine and they’d lunched together, completely happy in each other’s company.

But life went on and she had left for the introduction. Michael went to speak to Ayesha, to discuss the changed plans for the day. Although their bodies were apart, his mind was in hers, his presence a constant with her. She wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“Dayum, you look great, girl!” Cliff exclaimed. “Done your makeup differently?”

She shot him a grin. “Of course not. I know better. There’s not much more to do.” She took the clipboard and scanned the script. It wasn’t a line-by-line, but an outline of the subjects she had to cover. A red line marked where they’d stopped the day before. At almost exactly the same time. Most of the light here was artificial, but in the suite beyond, large windows opened on to a view of the bay, curving around as though it had been put there just for the delectation of the occupants of suite number one.

She recapped from the day before, providing an overlap in case the editor needed one and went into the suite.

This time there was no unpleasant shock, just a luxury suite decorated in a deliberately retro style. Her mind elsewhere, Lisa outlined the circumstances of her mother’s death, surprised to discover she felt no emotion as she related the story. Since her father had told her years before, she’d read about it, discovered all the details she could, but never felt any link between herself and the beautiful, though misguided, Rosanna. An accident of fate made her resemble her mother more than her father, but despite looking like her mother, she felt no connection, no fondness.

The introduction went well. She repeated it, as she always did, in case they needed to splice anything in. Sometimes, especially in haunted sites, strange lights and sound interferences only became apparent when they were back in the editing suite, and recording everything twice was such a habit, nobody stopped to say “cut” or “retake.” Relief suffused her when she finished. She could join Michael now. She found she needed him, wanted his touch. His mind wasn’t enough. She wanted her fingers laced with his, his warmth close enough for her to feel.

Was it always this way, love
?

Lisa had no way of knowing. She’d liked men before, even had crushes, but had never felt this intensity of emotion for any man. It was like a physical need. She’d held back, done the right thing and tried to make her relationship with Brant work, but even then, she’d watched Michael, wondered what it would be like to be loved by a man like him.

Now she knew. She wanted more. She doubted she’d ever be satisfied.

I feel the same way
.

His voice in her head sounded natural and right. Lisa turned and headed for the door of the suite. An arm blocked her way.

“Let me by, Brant.”

He just stared at her, as though he was trying to read her, as Michael could do. Then with an audible intake of breath, he spoke. “Why did you sleep with him?”

She raised a brow. “Can’t you guess?”

He gritted his teeth, visibly controlling his emotions. “He’s got a big dick?”

The crudeness suited him, she realized. Brant McManus might be big and handsome, but he had no tenderness. When she was with him, he’d made her feel possessed, wanted, but never cherished. She hadn’t known that particular feeling until last night. “Let me pass. I don’t owe you any explanations, Brant, or anything else. In case you’d forgotten,
you
dumped
me
.”

He smiled slowly, the corners of his sensual mouth curling up in a way she used to love. With the emphasis on the
used to
. “Is that what this is all about? I was only waiting for you to come to your senses, baby. If you like, you can come back now. But I still want you to give up work. That’s a given.”

“Give it to yourself. If you can find a woman who wants that, she’s an idiot and you deserve each other.”

He showed no sign of getting out the way so she tried to reach past him to the door.

Catching her arm, he yanked her hard into his body and then whirled around so he slammed her against the wall, knocking the breath out of her.

“I like some spirit in a woman. But I also like a woman who knows when to give in. Just to help you along a bit, I’ll give you a bit of advice. Keep away from Michael Scott. Not only is he seriously weird, he’s not even the same species as we are.”

At the first jolt of alarm, Lisa had felt Michael’s presence in her mind, anxiously checking on her. She still couldn’t speak and gasped for breath. Brant bent his head, obviously meaning to kiss her, and that helped her find her voice. “What are you talking about, the same species?”

He drew back and although desire still smoldered in his eyes, a certain hardness entered. “He’s not our kind, Lisa, you and me.”

“He’s a medium, he’s psychic. We could all be psychic. Why does that make him a certain species?”

She felt nothing else but Michael in her mind, and he was listening intently.
Hold on, Lisa, I’m making my way to you. Keep him talking. I need to hear what he has to say
.

Decision time. Should she trust Michael, a new love but an old friend, or Brant, someone she knew inside and out? She didn’t hesitate. Michael showed integrity, tenderness, and honesty, all things she considered essential. Brant lacked all three. At one time she’d thought his determination to climb the greasy pole of success amusing, admirable even, but some of the methods he used were questionable, to say the least.

“Listen, Lisa. I belong to a powerful, influential organization of people who call ourselves Anti-Sensitives. They’ve bought into the TV network because they saw something in Scott in some of the programs. They know there’s something wrong with him. So do I. I’ve seen him close up, and his ability isn’t just unusual, it’s weird. Off. Wrong. I’ve agreed to give him to them, and they’ll arrive soon to pick him up.”

That would leave Brant clear to run the program and ingratiate himself with the network’s new owners.

She schooled her face to calmness. “Did you arrange the electric shock?”

He grinned. “Oh yes. I thought I’d save them some time. He should have died, you know. That was what finally convinced me the anti-sensitives are right. Listen, Lisa, I don’t want you going anywhere near him. The electrical test was the last one. I’ve run him through a few this year without him knowing. Leave it. The anti-sensitives will take care of it from here on in.”

“And you’ll take care of the network?”

He blinked. “Yeah, maybe. Do you want to be the woman of the man in charge? They’re gonna promote me to production head. Then from there it should be easy.”

“Michael’s part owner.”

He backed off slightly, and his look held more respect. “Is that why you went to him? Good thinking, honey. But there’s no need now. You can have me
and
the network.”

Endless arrogance looked back at her, and despite his body-builder physique and killer looks, she could honestly say there was nothing she wanted there.

A flicker at the edge of her field of vision drew her attention and a now familiar warmth filled her mind.

“Let her go, McManus.”

Slowly, Brant turned his head to confront Michael Scott. “How did you get in here? I know you’re one of these deviants, so it doesn’t surprise me. I’m just curious.”

“Yeah, you’re curious all right.” Michael took a step forward. Behind him, in the doorway to the bathroom, she saw the man from last night, Basil Rostov. This time he was dressed as a cop. How many uniforms did this man own?

Michael stared at Brant, seemingly calm but because of their mind link, Lisa felt his anger bubbling up to swamp his tranquil veneer. He glanced at Lisa.

“Has he hurt you?”

The surge of anger, like a bubble of molten rock on the surface of a volcano scared her more than anything Brant might have done. “No. Just yelled some stupid stuff about you and the anti-sensitives and that kind of thing. He thinks you should be eliminated. But I think it’s greed, not any belief, motivating him.”

“Is that right? You want to kill me?” Michael folded his arms in front of his impressive chest. “You can try.”

Brant spun around and lashed out in a classic kick-boxing tactic. Although Michael tried to catch him in motion, all he got was a passing flick of the high-speed foot over the side of his hand. He didn’t even wince.

A slow smile spread over his face. “Too perfect. I get to mess you up some before we take you in?”

Rostov stepped forward, but Michael waved him back again. “I’ve wanted to do this for months.”

Michael changed his stance, but only feinted with one foot. When Brant tried to retaliate by lashing out again, Michael leapt forward over the lethal kick and went for Brant’s stomach, left vulnerable by the lengthening of his body.

His punch landed squarely on target and Brant crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath.

Michael stepped over him and took Lisa into his arms. “Well that was disappointing, but we don’t want to ruin the furnishings in this place, do we? The costs would be a hefty part of our expenses.”

“I didn’t know you could fight like that,” she said, staring at Brant’s scrunched-up body. He moaned.

Michael touched her face with the tip of his forefinger, as though he needed to make skin-to-skin contact. “You don’t know a lot of things about me,” he murmured, and bent to kiss her softly. “You sure you’re all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine. I should have expected something, really. He’s arrogant enough to assume I would actually prefer him over you.”

A soft click alerted Lisa to the fact that Rostov was fastening handcuffs around Brant’s wrists. “What’s going to happen to him?”

Michael looked away. “He’ll leave the ship as though Basil is arresting him for tampering with the electric switches. Mr. Smith will take him in and get him to tell him where the rest of his cell is hiding. They’ll be nearby somewhere. They never work alone, always have backup.”

“Just like you.”

“Almost.”

Ignoring Brant’s jerky gasps and moans, Rostov hauled him to his feet.

“Won’t they recognize your friend as the security guard from last night?”

Michael shot her a glance. “Doubtful. People always look at the uniform first.”

“How
did
you get here? Is there a service door in the bathroom or something?”