"It's okay, Rachel," he interrupted, edging farther down the long fainting couch. "Forget I said anything. Hey, I'll just go, okay?"
My pulse quickened. "I'm not asking you to leave. I'm saying I've had fun with you. I was hurting then. I still am, but I've laughed a lot, and I like you." He looked up, slightly red-faced and with his brown eyes holding a new vulnerability. My mind went back to me sitting on the kitchen floor with no one to pick me up. I took a deep breath, scared. "I've been thinking, too."
Marshal exhaled, as if a knot had untwisted in him. "When you were in the hospital," he said quickly, "God help me, but I suddenly saw what we'd been doing the last couple of months, and something hurt me."
"It didn't feel that good to be there," I quipped.
"And then Jenks told me you collapsed in your kitchen," he added with a worried sincerity. "I know you can take care of yourself and that you've got Ivy and Jenks-"
"The line ripped through my aura," I explained. "It hurt." My mind jerked back to my jealousy when I sat all night beside Marshal and listened to Robbie go on about Cindy, almost glowing. Why couldn't I have some stability like that?
Marshal shifted to take my hand, the space between us looking larger for it. "I like you, Rachel. I mean, I really like you," he said, almost scaring me. "Not because you've got sexy legs and know how to laugh, or because you get excited in chase scenes, and take the time to help get a puppy out of a tree."
"That was really weird, wasn't it?"
His fingers tightened on mine, drawing my gaze down. "Jenks said you thought you were alone and you might do something stupid trying to rescue that ghost."
At that, I gave up on all pretense of levity. "I'm not alone." Maybe Mia was right, but I didn't want her to be. Even if I was, I could still stand alone. I'd done it all my life and I could do it well. But I didn't want to. I shivered, from the cold or the conversation, and Marshal frowned.
"I don't want to ruin what we have," Marshal said, his voice soft in the absolute stillness of a winter's afternoon. He slowly slid closer, and I set the book on my lap on the floor to lean up against his side, testing the feeling though I was stiff and uncertain, trying it on. It felt like it fit, which worried me. "Maybe friends is enough," he added, as if really considering it. "I've never had as good a relationship with a woman as I've got with you, and I'm just smart enough, and old enough, and tired enough to let it ride as it is."
"Me, too," I said, almost disappointed. I shouldn't be resting against him, leading him on. I was a danger to everyone I liked, but the Weres had backed off, and the vamps. I'd get Al to see reason. I didn't want Jenks to be right about me chasing the unattainable as an excuse to be alone. I had a great relationship with Marshal right now. Just because it wasn't physical didn't make it any less real. Or did it? I wanted to care about someone. I wanted to love someone, and I didn't want to be afraid to. I didn't want to let Mia win.
"Marshal, I still don't know if I'm ready for a boyfriend." Reaching out, I touched the short hair behind his ear, heart pounding. I'd spent so much effort trying to convince myself that he was off limits, that just that small motion seemed erotic. He didn't move, and my hand drifted down until my fingers brushed his collar, a whisper from touching his skin. A small spot of feeling grew, and I drew my gaze back to his. "But I'd like to see if I am. If you do..."
His hand came up to pin mine against his shoulder, not binding but promising more. His free hand dropped lower, suggestively crossing the invisible boundary of my defenses and retreating to give me his answer. That we'd spent the last two months keeping our distance made that simple move surprisingly intense.
Marshal reached to tilt my head up to his, and I let my head move easily in his grip, turning to face him. His fingers were warm on my jawline as he searched my gaze, weighing my words against his own worries. I shivered in the chill. "You sure?" he said. "I mean, we can't go back."
He had already seen the crap of my life, and he hadn't left. Did it matter if this didn't last forever if it gave me peace right now? "No, I'm not sure," I whispered, "but if we wait until we are, neither of us will find anyone."
That seemed to give him a measure of assurance, and I closed my eyes as he gently turned my face to his and tentatively kissed me, tasting of sugar and doughnuts. Feeling raced through me, heat from wanting something I said I never would pursue. His hand pulled me closer, and the slip of a tongue sent a dart of desire to my middle. Oh God, it felt good, and my mind raced as fast as my heart.
I didn't want this to be a mistake. I'd been with him for two months and proved neither of us was here for the physical stuff. So why not see if it worked?
Tension plinked through me, sharpening my thoughts and arraying an almost-forgotten possibility before me. Despite-or maybe because of-our platonic relationship, I wasn't ready to sleep with him. That would be just too weird, and Jenks would tell me I was overcompensating for something. But he was a ley line witch-I wasn't a slouch either-and though the age-old technique of drawing energy from one witch to another probably had its origins in our ancestral past to assure that strong witches procreated with strong witches to promote species strength, nowadays all that remained was insanely good foreplay. There was only one problem.
"Wait," I said, breathless as our kiss broke and reason filtered back into me.
Marshal's fingers slowed and dropped. "You're right. I should go. Dumb idea. I'll, uh, call you if you want. In about a year, maybe."
He sounded embarrassed, and I put a hand on his arm. "Marshal." Looking up, I shifted closer until our thighs touched. "Don't go." I swallowed hard. "I, uh, I haven't been with a witch in ages," I said in a small voice, unable to look up. "One who could pull on a line, I mean. I'd kind of like to...you know. But I don't know if I remember how."
His eyes widened as he understood, and his chagrin at my supposed rebuff was pushed out by something deeper, older: the question our DNA had written that begged to be answered. Who was the more proficient witch, and how much fun could we have finding that out?
"Rachel!" he said, his soft laugh turning me warm. "You don't forget stuff like that."
My mortification grew, but his gaze was one of understanding, and it gave me strength. "I didn't practice ley lines much then. Now..." I shrugged, embarrassed. "I don't know my limits. And with my aura being damaged..." I let my words trail off to nothing.
Marshal put his forehead against mine, his hands on my shoulders. "I'll be careful," he whispered. "Would you rather pull than push?" he said softly, hesitantly.
I flushed hot, but I nodded, still not looking at him. Pulling was more intimate, more soul stealing, more tender, more dangerous in terms of confusing it with love, but it was safer when the two people didn't know each other's ley line limits.
He leaned in slowly for an inquisitive kiss. My eyes closed as his lips met mine, and I exhaled into it, my grip on his shoulders tightening. I shifted to face him. Marshal responded, his hand going to the back of my head, possessive yet hesitant. His redwood scent sparked in me a rise of emotion, pure and untainted by the fear that had always lurked with Kisten. The kiss lacked the adrenaline push of fear, but it struck just as deep, hitting emotion born in our beginnings. There was danger in this not-so-innocent kiss. There was the potential for ecstasy or an equal amount of pain, and the dance would be very careful, as trust was only a promise between us.
My pulse leapt at the chance to see this through. A power pull didn't have to include sex, but it was probably the reason female witches always came back after playing with invariably more well-endowed human males. Even if humans could work the lines, they couldn't do a power pull. My only worry besides embarrassment was my compromised aura...It might hurt instead. It was basically the same thing Al used for punishment, forcing a line into me to cause pain, but it was like comparing a loving kiss to rape.
A trill of anticipation lit through me and was gone. Oh God. I hope I remember how to do this, 'cause I really want to.
I drew him to me even as I broke our kiss. My breath came fast, and eyes still shut, I leaned my head against his shoulder, lips open as I breathed in his scent. One of his hands held my waist, the other was lost in my hair. I tensed at the feel of his fingers. He knew I wasn't going to hit him with a blast of ley line force to repel him and his advances, but several millennia of instinct were hard to best with only a lifetime of experience, and we'd go slow.
I shifted, straddling his legs, pinning him to the back of the couch. A spike of anticipation dove deep. It was followed by worry. What if I couldn't loosen up enough to do this? My breath was fast, and with my hands laced behind his head, I opened my eyes to find his. Their deep brown was heady with a desire to match my own. I shifted, feeling him under me. "You ever done this with a friend before?" I asked.
"Nope, but there's a first time for everything," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice as well as see it. "You need to be quiet."
"I...," I managed to get out before his hands edged under my shirt and he kissed me again. My pulse hammered, and as the rough-smoothness of his hands explored my midriff and rose higher, his mouth on mine grew intense. I met his aggression with my own, sending my hands to his waist, dipping a finger beneath his jeans to prove I might do more someday.
I pressed into his warmth, deciding not to think anymore, but just to be. My chi was utterly empty, so with the soft hesitancy of a virginal kiss, I reached out my awareness and found the simmering energy his chi held. Marshal felt it. His hands on me tightened and relaxed, telling me to draw it from him, to set his entire body alight with the rush of adrenaline and the ecstasy of endorphins when I forcibly took it.
I exhaled, willing it to come.
The warmth of his hands on me flashed into tingles. In a sudden rush that shocked us, the balances equalized. Adrenaline spiked out of control. Marshal groaned, and, frightened, I tightened my awareness. Barriers clamped down, and I warmed in embarrassment. But the energy had come in smooth and pure, lacking the sickening nausea that a ley line left me in. Coming from a person, it had lost its jagged edges.
"Marshal," I gushed, totally miserable. "I'm sorry. I'm not good at this."
Marshal shuddered, opening one eye to focus on me. He had gone utterly pliant under me, frighteningly so. "Who says?" he whispered, sitting up to pull me farther onto his lap.
I was ready to throw myself out the window. I could feel the energy from him in my chi, scintillating and tasting of masculinity in my thoughts. It wanted to go back to him, but I was afraid. I'd closed myself to him, and it was going to be harder, now.
"Rachel," Marshal soothed, his hand running up and down my arm. "Relax. You've been carrying around chunks of ever-after with the intent of hurting people if they attack you, and because of that, you've built one hell of a wall."
"Yeah, but-"
"Just shut up," he said, giving me little kisses that distracted and sent tingles of desire building in me. "It's okay."
"Marshal-" This is so weird, kissing him, and I walled the thought off.
"Use your lips for something other than talking, will you? If it doesn't work, it doesn't work. No big deal."
"Mmmmph," I mumbled, surprised when he wrapped his arms around me and hiked me farther onto him, silencing my protests with his mouth. Giving up, I kissed him, feeling myself relax and tense up all at the same time.
My breath came faster as Marshal's hands started exploring, running across my jeans to drag me up where I could feel him pressing into me. I took his mouth with my own, finding a kiss, slowly tasting him as his redwood scent filled me. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and I pushed back. It was my undoing.
I gasped, hands flying to his shoulders to shove away when he pulled on my chi. With an exquisite ping of adrenaline, I fought him, even as he gripped me harder, forcing me to stay. The shock was heady, and with a sound of desperation, I broke our kiss. Panting, I stared at him, breathless in the chill winter afternoon. Damn, that had felt good.
"Sorry, sorry," I panted, sexual excitement pounding in me.
"For what?" Marshal asked, heat in his gaze.
"I pulled away," I said, and he smiled.
"Take it back," he whispered, teasing me. His fingers touched everything, running smoothly over me to make me shiver in the dusky light coming through the slats. Here, there, never long anywhere, to drive me almost mad. Oh God, I'll make him beg for it.
Shivering from anticipation and desire, I leaned in. Marshal's scent was everywhere. I breathed him in, shutting off my thoughts. His hands were on my waist, and as I grew comfortable with our new closeness, I exhaled in a soft sound of pleasure as he found my breasts, nuzzling one of them through my shirt, then the other, bringing me stiff with anticipation until I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to wait, to make him ask for it with his body if not his words, but instead I exhaled, pulling from him every last erg of power in his chi.
Marshal groaned as the exquisite fulfillment of it rolled into me, mixed with the wicked feeling of domination and possession. He opened his eyes; the hot need showing in them set my heart pounding. I had taken from him, and now he was going to take from me.
He didn't wait. One hand behind my neck, he drew me down to kiss him. I knew it was coming, but I couldn't help my whispered cry as he touched my chi with his awareness and pulled everything from me, running it through my body and into his to leave glittering trails of loss and heat to spiral through me like smoke from an extinguished candle.
I didn't fight him. I was able to share this, and with our kiss holding, I steadied myself to wrestle it back. My knees pressed into his thighs, demanding it, taking it, making it mine.
Power pulled fast through him with the crack of a whip, and he gasped, his arms jumping up to imprison me. I breathed him in, feeling him inside me everywhere. I could taste him in my mind, in my soul. It was glorious. I could hardly stand it.
"Take it," I whispered, wanting to feel him do the same, but he grunted no. My moan turned into a pant of want, and spurred on, he gripped me more intensely until he touched my chi again, taking all of it in a wash of scintillation to leave only a trail of sparkles in my mind and an aching emptiness.
It was my turn to steal it back, but he took control of everything. In a mind-numbing pulse of force, he pushed the energy into me. I sucked in my air in shocked surprise, clutching him. "Oh God, don't stop," I gasped. It was as if I could feel him inside me, outside me, all around me. And then he drew it back again, leaving me almost weeping for it. "Marshal," I panted. "Marshal, please."
"Not yet," he groaned.
I gripped his shoulders, wanting everything. Wanting it all. Wanting it now.
"Now," I demanded, out of my mind with the self-enforced deprivation. He had my line energy, he had my fulfillment. His mouth found mine, and I begged. Not with my words, but with my body. I writhed for it, I pressed into him for it, I did everything but take it, finding the exquisite ache of unfulfilled need chiming through me, driving me to a fevered pitch.
And then he groaned, unable to deny it anymore. I moaned in release as the energy from his chi filled mine as we both climaxed. A rush of endorphins cascaded through us, bringing me to a back-arched, gasping halt. Marshal's grip on me shook, and I trembled as wave after wave smothered me, pulling me into a hyperalert state where nothing was real.
I heard a panting moan, then realized, embarrassed, that it was me. Slumping into him, I felt my senses return. Marshal was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling under me as his hand lay on my back, still at last. I exhaled, feeling the flow of energy between us sift back and forth without hindrance, leaving little tingles that faded to nothing as the forces balanced perfectly.
I lay against him with my head on his shoulder, listening to his heartbeat and deciding there were probably not too many more enjoyable ways to mess up your life than this. And fully clothed, too. Feeling the icy cold of the afternoon against me, I stirred. "You okay?" I asked, smiling as I felt him nod.
"How about you?" he asked, his voice more of a rumble than a real sound.
I listened for a moment, hearing nothing. No pixy wings, no roommate stomping around downstairs. "Never better," I said, feeling more at peace than I had in a long time. Marshal's chest began to bounce, and I pushed myself up when I realized he was laughing. "What?" I said, feeling like I was the butt of the joke.
"Marshal, I don't know if I remember how," he said in a falsetto. "It's been so long."
Relieved, I sat up and mock-punched his shoulder. "Shut up," I said, not minding that he was laughing at me. "I didn't."
Marshal eased me off his lap, and I snuggled up to him, both of us slouched with our heads on the back of the couch and our feet intertwined on the floor.
"You sure your aura is okay?" Marshal asked, almost too soft to hear. He turned to look in my eyes, and I smiled.
"Yeah. That was...Yeah." Marshal's arms wrapped around me as I made a move to get up, and giggling, I fell back into him.
"Good," he whispered in my ear, holding me all the closer.
I wasn't going to worry about what happened next. It truly wasn't worth it.