His mouth disengaged from mine but he kept kissing me, lightly, softly, then he said against my mouth, “I wanna know about Cordova.”
I shook my head, not only in a “no” to his request but also to clear it and he kissed me again. The between-the-legs-tingle strengthened and emanated out through my body and my mind muddled again, focused only on what his mouth was doing to me. My wrists pressed against his, not to get away but so I could touch him.
I wanted to touch him, needed it.
His grip tightened, likely thinking I was trying to struggle even though I was kissing him back.
His mouth came away just a fraction and he spoke against my lips again. “Who taught you to shoot?” I was breathing heavily and I just stared at him, trying to clear my head.
“Who’s in on this with you?” he asked.
I kept silent.
“Who’re you after?” he persisted.
“Please get off me,” I said softly.
He shook his head, his lips turned up a bit and he kissed me again.
I lost any clarity that I had gained with his mouth not on mine and kissed him back, struggling against his hands at my wrists. His mouth moved away, down my cheek to my ear and he said, “I’l keep this up al day. You’re gonna talk to me, Jules.”
I twisted my head and, don’t ask me why, I was just driven by something I couldn’t control, I touched the tip of my tongue to his neck.
This caused an interesting response. His knees slid down so his body came to rest on top of mine and his hands let go of my wrists. My arms went around him immediately. He brought his lips to mine again and his kiss changed.
This wasn’t a muddle-your-mind, get-you-talking kiss, this was something entirely different.
My body reacted instantly, softening, melding itself to him and one of my hands went under his shirt, my fingers tracing the hard muscle and soft skin of his back above the waistband of his jeans then they slid up the indentation of his spine.
He made a noise, low in his throat that shot straight through my body and pounded between my legs.
He rol ed to his side, taking me with him, kissing me, hot, hungry; his hands gliding over the satin of my nightie. I could feel the cal uses on his fingers snagging at the material and, for some reason, this thril ed me.
His leg moved. He pushed a hard thigh between mine and his hand slid down my back, over my bottom, up the back of my thigh, lifting my leg at my knee and hooking it around his hip. Then his thigh pressed up between my legs.
It was then the phone beside my bed rang.
Vance ignored it, so did I. We kept kissing, Vance using his talented tongue, then he’d give me soft, quick kisses, then he’d use his tongue again. My hands moved up his back, feeling him and pressing him to me at the same time.
I hadn’t gone the way of voicemail. I stil had an answering machine mainly because I liked to see it blinking on the very odd occasion that someone phoned me.
My voice could be heard asking the cal er to leave a message as Vance and I kissed and groped, total y oblivious to the sound.
“Jules? This is May. I know it’s early, hon, sorry. Listen, do you know where Sniff and Roam are? Their beds have been slept in but they’re gone…”
My body froze for a nanosecond then I pul ed away from Vance, rol ed, came up on my knees, my ass again on my calves and I snagged the phone.
“May?” I said into the phone, slightly breathless.
May was a volunteer at the Shelter. She worked more than most of the paid staff. She was a sweetheart and a soft touch, but she hid it just enough so the kids wouldn’t walk al over her.
“Hey hon,” May said into my ear. “You sound like you were running.”
“No, just… never mind,” I said, not about to explain it.
“What’s up with Sniff and Roam?”
“They’re not here. Thought you might know something.
The kids are talking but not straight out. We think something is happening, or has happened, and we’re a little concerned.”
I closed my eyes and dropped my head.
Then I took a deep breath to calm my heart and mind and said, “I’l be there as soon as I can.”
“Okay, hon. See you when you get here.”
Then she disconnected. I put the phone back and turned my eyes to Vance.
He was on his side, up on an elbow watching me.
“Sorry. Gotta go,” I said.
And before he could respond, I scooted to the end of the bed and, not using the steps, jumped to the ground, landing lightly on my feet. I headed straight to the kitchen.
I went to the table, pul ed my cel out of my purse, found Roam’s number and cal ed it. It rang to no answer and Vance walked into the kitchen, stopped, leaned a hip against the counter and crossed his arms on his chest, watching me while I left a message.
“Roam, you get this message, you cal me immediately.
Got me?”
Then I hit the off button and scrol ed to Sniff’s number.
“You gonna share?” Vance asked.
I kept my eyes on him while I listened to the phone ring.
What I didn’t do was share.