Love Scene Excerpt

The night air was cool and she stalked towards the boats that bobbed in the water with no inclination as to where she was going. As if she hadn't enough already on her mind to have him bringing up her mother!

Angrily she paced the wooden planks of the piers that weaved throughout the cluster of boats and yachts. When she heard the echo of footsteps she knew it was him and she hurriedly paced the length of the longest pier. She knew the platform ended in the bay, and was more furious when she reached the end, unable to walk further away from the man who pursued her.

She turned to face him, her face dry of tears in spite of the things she felt. Anger, she realized, was far more easy to exhibit than hurt. . .or love.

"Leave me alone!" she cried. "You don't know what you're talking about!" But, she realized with painful truth, there was validity in the things he had said.

"Yes I do, and you know it. Think about it, Doc." His voice raised to match hers and she briefly wondered if anyone slept in the boats surrounding them. "Think about it," he repeated. "When have you ever been weak enough - or strong enough - to admit to any feelings you've had?"

"What I feel is none of your business. It would have been - could have been - but you decided for both of us what was - or wasn't - going to happen. I tried to tell you, I tried to be honest with you, and you just threw it back my face. 'Just a clone. A Goddamned experiment,' remember?" Anger and pain poured from her like heated air and she let it flow freely. "Why do you care anyway? You had your chance, DJ but you threw it away. You can't even begin to preach to me about feelings!" As she spoke, her barrier broke and, again, the pain rose from her heart, ached in her throat and fell from her eyes in angry tears.

She could have exploded further but he grabbed her before she said anything else and his mouth suddenly covered hers. She struggled, didn't want to feel the electricity that jolted her system, kick-started the furious pace of her heart. But the urgency in his kiss pulled her own needs to the surface and she returned his kiss with a passion as fierce as his own. A passion that had her tasting the mix of him with the salt of her own tears. She cried, yielding to the bittersweet pain of loving him and feeling so afraid to tell him how much.

She wept bitterly, "I told you I loved you." she murmured into him with shameless pain. Her fists pounded in frustration against his solid chest. "I told you. . ." her breaths were ragged and heavy, the heat of their mouths warmed her lips, cooled her tear-stained cheeks. His arms pulled her close before his hands found her face, caressed her, and touched her more deeply than he could ever know. Like warm water to sugar, her defenses melted helplessly.

"I couldn't tell you," he responded breathlessly, his mouth searching hers, his tongue taunting her own. ‘I couldn’t. . ." he uttered, his words cut off as his mouth met hers again.

Say it, she silently pleaded. God, please say it.

But he said no more, only crushed her mouth beneath his, pulled her into him so that she felt his heart beating with hers. For an eternal moment, she was lost in him. She opened herself to him and felt him flood her and her senses drowned gloriously in his passion. The emotional plane on which she soared became heated with desire until basic, feminine need enraptured her.

"I. . .want. . ." she couldn't speak, his kiss stole her words as he lifted her effortlessly, his lips never leaving hers. He stood there holding her, kissing her as she lay cradled in the security of his arms. When her mouth moved to his neck, her arms wrapped around him, her hands rummaged recklessly through his hair. The feel of his chest against her as he walked, fed the frenzied needs that whirled inside of her in a cyclone of ache and hunger.

When he stepped up to the hull of a docked boat and gently placed her on the deck, she surfaced from her daze of passion and saw the focus in his expression. His face was intense, his eyes clear with purpose as he stepped over to meet her.

She looked around her, noting the narrow steps leading down into the boat. Masts stood tall into the night sky, white sails wrapped tightly around them, secured with thick ropes. She turned her eyes up to him and he simply said, "Your father's boat."

When he came to her, she needn’t know anymore. The heat of his body mixing with that of her own, she watched his face as it grew serious, his gaze deepening. He kissed her again, this time gently as if she were glass and he were afraid to break her. She couldn't move, only stand there, motionless, struggling against the nagging of so many things inside her that were now such a part of what she knew as truth. Things she'd never known were there. Things that confused her with elation and sadness, longing and hope. Her arms hung heavily at her side as she helplessly let him ravage her with heated, tender kisses. His lips on her skin, the gentle teasing of his tongue as it danced over her neck and shoulders, brought heated chills to her flesh that danced all over her body.

DJ stopped, looked down at her, and she was only vaguely aware of him grabbing her hand. He pulled her down the narrow stairwell that led into a small galley. Entranced, the world was a fog surrounding them as she followed him down a narrow hallway that led to a tiny, but quaint cabin. Light from the harbor shined in through the small round window, making brass shine against rich, dark wood. He pulled her into the chamber towards the small bed that occupied most of the space.

She was lost in thought, trying to get her bearings, trying to decide what she needed to do - struggling against what she wanted to do. Her stomach still churned, her heart still ached and her head still swam in thought when he pushed her gently to the bed and climbed on top of her. The weight of him was comforting, secure, as he leaned into her and whispered, "Stop thinking." She focused on him, felt his hand run from her hair, down her cheek, to her neck. "Just feel," his whispered voice, somehow pleading. "For once, Doc. Just feel."

His words were like lightning, striking the barrier between her heart and mind. She marveled at his wise insight, whimpered at his touch, and, for a moment, dipped her toes in the frighteningly deep, pure water of emotion.

He kissed her in a crazy, mixed up way that had her wanting more; first gently, gingerly, then with feverish passion, and then gently again. She arched against him, against the strength that had become everything she wanted, and felt the stiffness of his arousal against her. She deliberately pressed her thigh against it, wanting to feel it more, and he groaned in response as he reached for her hands. He kissed her neck, lay firmly on top of her, pulled her arms over her head and laced his fingers with hers, gripping her hands firmly. She trusted him and that sensation, too, fed her growing need.

He moved ever so subtly against her so that she instinctively returned equal pressure against him but he stopped, looked down at her, and seemed to drink her in. His face grew intent, his eyes studied her curiously, and his hands left hers.

She was pleasantly surprised when the fervency he'd exhibited changed to something tender, something beautiful, and he touched her with attentive hands. He said nothing, but his eyes told her so much and she closed hers, letting the touch of him leave trails of warmth over her body.

His hands found the buttons of her blouse and she gasped slightly when she felt his fingertips skim her flesh as the button snapped open and his breath on her lips. He kissed her softly, his hands seducing her skin with feathery touches. When he got her blouse open, his hand expanded the width of her stomach and she felt her nipples harden in anticipation as his thumb caressed the softness just beneath her breasts. She let him roam her with a gently feverish need that pleased her as much as it seemed to please him.

Where she had wanted to burn with him in this fiery passion, she calmed, her breathing slowed and she gave into the gentle energy he exuded. Her touch became as purposeful as his but no less hungry. She carefully turned on him, her hair falling over his and hers faces like a curtain encasing them both. He reached up and held it back, studying her face intently, his eyes searching hers for something she could only answer with a kiss.

She suddenly realized what he'd meant and felt a slight sense of vulnerability in knowing she'd never made love this way before. Never simply felt without thinking. She realized, as she ran her hand along the length of his chest and then back up to his face, that he'd meant for her to feel with him - not just feel him.

The awareness had her opening up as she never had before, reveling in the feel of him as much as in the touch of him. She climbed onto him, straddled him momentarily to take off the bra he'd already released the latch of. It, and her blouse, slid off her shoulders and the feeling was more free, more sensual than it had ever been before. When he didn't grasp her breasts, but instead reached to touch her stomach, expanded his embrace around her back, she let him pull her to him and relished the feel of his skin against hers. His breaths released and mixed with hers, crawling over her skin like a slow, sensual mist.

She felt the pressure in his jeans as it pressed against her, making her want to feel him inside her more than she'd ever wanted from anyone.

She touched him freely, let her hands roam him as his did the same to her. Curious touches that he seemed to drink in with an insatiable thirst. Her skin heated with every touch. Within minutes, they lay wrapped together, skin against skin, heart against heart, hunger meeting tenderness. She watched with an unusual sense of self as his eyes roamed her body, his fingers appreciating every place she’d never realized had been neglected of touches and attention. The gentle sweep of his fingers over the soft skin of her inner wrist. The light squeeze of her calf and later, the feathery trail of his fingers sliding along the length of her legs. It was more than a touch of the skin, it was a reach into the deepest parts of her.

He kissed her delicately, never touching where she longed to be touched. She closed her eyes, couldn't help but writhe in anticipation as she felt his breath near the tender, almost ticklish, spot on her inner thigh. The tingling heat that craved his touch grew more intense as his hands and mouth took her in. His hands, rough against the softness of her skin, touched, caressed, wandered. She sensed his need to breathe her, taste her, drink her in and she relished in the erotic worship he gave so selflessly to her body.

When, at last, he touched her, tasted her, a flood of desire and need clouded her eyes, roared in her ears. His fingers explored with gentle, but urgent probes, his tongue tantalized. Her body responded with vibrations and echoes of long-needed release. But it wasn't just the physical delight, it was the feelings that raged within it. The emotional attachment that fed her body's need to be close to him. He taunted and seduced her with a surprisingly talented tongue until she could hear the scream in her blood.

Her body floated in a raging, uncontrolled current that pushed her hard and furious to a fall. Her hands sought that glorious head of hair, reached down to grip his shoulders in response to the soaring heat he sent through her. She moaned out her satisfaction and fell headlong into the warm, calm waters of appeasement.

Trembling from the way he rocked her system - brought her to a point of utter frustration only to shatter her with the most intense release - she reached blindly to him as she felt him climb up to rest on top of her. She felt the length of his hardness - the need of him - as it rested between her legs. His lack of urgency was an arousing frustration as she felt the heat on her neck from his breath. She wanted to feel him desperately, yet she wasn't disappointed when she opened her eyes, saw him watching her. His expression was soft, loving. His kiss tender and true as his hands stroked her hair with a touch as delicate as a dewdrop on a rose petal.

"You're glowing," he said, quietly. "You're so beautiful." The sincerity in his eyes said as much as his words and Alayna was lost there. As he spoke, she breathlessly waited as his hips rose slightly and she felt him near her. She arched against him, her eyes steady on his, greedily wanting him inside her.

He kissed her more fiercely – a devastatingly powerful hunger reverberated from him to her - and they moaned into each other as she felt the aching pleasure of him enter her. He filled her completely, heart and body, mind and spirit. In the daze of passion, the fog of pleasure, she heard him whisper, "I do love you." The words were husky and deep, but then gripped her hair, "I love you." with breathless sincerity.

As she took in his words as well as his body, her heart ached with euphoria. Her body responded with urgency and she rocked with him, their bodies moving in perfect harmony, their lips wet with hungry passion. He thrust into her and she accepted the truth of his words as she enveloped him completely, warm, wet velvet to smooth, hard steel. When she felt him tense, heard the heady groan escape him as his body released and he filled her, she gripped him tightly, held him close, and let herself feel the fullness of what they shared. She let herself feel the ache that came from needing him in a way she'd never felt anything before.

Moments later, she lay there, both physically and emotionally exhausted, and reveled in the feel of his weight over her. She didn’t analyze or try to understand. She just listened to his breaths as they slowed with hers and felt the rise and fall of her stomach against his. The feeling was frighteningly natural.

He mumbled something into the pillow and she turned her mouth to his ear, kissed it softly. "Hmm?" She reached to stroke his hair, and he raised up, resting on his elbows so that he could look down at her.

"I said, ‘damn’."

Breathless and completely in love, she laughed softly. "Well, that’s the sweetest thing any man has ever said to me after making love."

He beamed brightly and ran her hair through his fingers, his eyes clear, his face contemplative as he watched the strands fall, then picked them up again. "You know, back in that cabin, I’d heard Precilla tell them to kill you. It was like they had stolen my breath." he stopped touching her hair and turned his eyes to hers. "I’m sorry about the things I said-"

She hushed him with a kiss. "I know. I know why you did it. I guess I knew then, too. It’s just so hard for me. . .and then when I finally. . ."

This time, he hushed her with a kiss. "When I heard you tell me you loved me, I knew it was as hard for you to say it, as it was for me to disregard it." He shifted and she moved over so she could rest on his shoulder and he held her close. "It won’t ever happen again."

She left it at that and found she believed him. She let the sound of his breathing and the beat of his heart lull her to sleep.

CHAPTER 29

Alayna awoke to the tiny, golden stars that glistened in the eyes of the man she loved. He looked down at her lovingly while his hands stroked her hair, his expression peaceful and calm. Strange how he could calm her and excite her all in a touch.

"Morning," she said with a sleepy smile. Her hands reached around to caress the warmth of his back. Memories of the night had her snuggling close to him, breathing in the distant, musky scent of their love.

"Morning, sleepy head." He kissed the bridge of her nose, coiled a lock of hair around his finger. "You’re even beautiful in the morning. Did I ever tell you I love your hair down?"

She reached and linked her fingers with his, chuckled. "Yes, you did." Awkward now, after hearing what she had needed so desperately to hear him say, she struggled for words.

"You’re doing it again." He turned, brought more of his weight onto her so that his chest covered her breasts. The move ignited the spark that was still smoldering from the night before.

"Hmm?"

"You’re thinking again. Doesn’t that brain ever get tired?" He kissed her temple and she felt the stir inside that grew as he trailed the kiss down her face to her neck. It was strange to feel like a teenager, somehow clumsy and unsure. Especially with a man like DJ.

"Where on earth did you learn how to. . ."

He half-moaned, half-laughed and the vibration traveled her skin, made her quiver slightly. "Wouldn’t you like to know," he said against her neck, moving slowly down the front of her so that she could only smile. She looked at him; his eyes danced with mischievous pleasure as he lowered himself further. His lips danced a treacherous dance upon her skin, his tongue darting torturously, tauntingly over her stomach, her navel.

"I ah. . ." She forgot what she was saying, forgot everything, when she felt him near the core of her, the heat of her. A place he had already riled and wakened, that ached once more for the satiation of the night before.

Unable to control, she simply surrendered. The feeling was fresh, but foreign. Something she felt with awkward acceptance. Giving, without thinking. The notion had always evaded her and now, as he touched her, she opened herself up to him. He stroked and petted, caressed and explored, his mouth returning to hers even as his hands played like magic over her body. She flowed with the waves of tender loving, unwavering trust, and peaceful acceptance until his hands – the glorious touch of his fingers - brought her crashing again, to a marvelous, humming, calm and serenity.

When, at last, she was grounded by the constant warmth of his mouth on hers, she poured herself into him once more, wanting more than anything to give that which he had given to her. She eased him back, straddled him slowly, sleekly, so that he didn’t seem to realize what was happening until she was there, looking at him, looking down at him. She felt sexy and free in a wonderfully new way.

She didn’t let her eyes leave his, only leaned into him and sheathed him. Heated and ready, she rocked slowly, easing him into the motion until he gripped her hips and held tight, moving with her like a dance to a racy wind. When she could handle no more, she fell onto him and they moved together until, again, she felt wracking waves of pleasure rush through her and he, as she, released.

Moments later, when her breathing had slowed, she kissed him in the crazy, mixed up way he had her: fierce, then gentle, and stood. She pulled her shirt on which was now wrinkled from the weight of their love making and shrugged helplessly as she realized pressing it with her hands was a futile attempt. She returned the pleasured, gentle smile he gave to her, giggling when he reached up to pull her back to the bed.

"Do we have to get up?" He grabbed and poked, tickled her until she was pinned beneath him, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

She sighed contentedly, almost gave in, but nodded her head. "Yeah, we really should. I’m sure Ms. Faye is probably going crazy by now." He would have ravaged her – and she would have let him – but she knew it was, indeed, now time to think. She toyed with him, let their playful kisses linger, then stood to pull on her shorts.

When he eyed her suspiciously, she just smiled and nodded. "Yes, I’m thinking again." There was a strange comfort in knowing he knew her that well.

He groaned - a lazy, satisfied groan - as he rose from the bed, ran his hands through his hair and she smiled. Lord he was sexy. Had she ever dated a man so sexy? She shook her head to clear it but still couldn’t recall having dated anyone so perfectly proportioned, so . . .she glanced down at his sex as he dressed. Yes, someone so perfectly proportioned, she silently repeated. She chuckled at her own private thoughts, had DJ looking at her inquiringly.

"What’s so funny?"

"Nothing."

He cocked his head and she knew he wouldn’t let it rest.

"Nothing," she repeated, "I’m just, y’know, thinking." She smiled a full, gleeful smile, pleased that his expression showed he didn’t believe her.

"Really?" He fastened his jeans and stood there watching her, his thumbs tucked into the front pockets. He walked around the bed, wincing when his knee caught the corner, and stood in front of her. "Nothing?" He licked his lips and grinned, slowly backing her away. "You know, it’s not very nice to laugh at a guy when you’re looking at his-"

Suddenly nervous, she straightened, "Oh, trust me, babe. It was a laugh of admiration. I wasn’t laughing at your-" She stood on the opposite side of the bed, now.

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm. Really." She saw the grin spread over his face like a flash before he leapt across the bed and she ducked out of the cabin, ran up the stairs into the morning.

Things were different in the daylight. The old run-down marina now bustled with mariners and customers, and made it look welcoming and friendly. People loaded their boats with ice chests and, across the bay, a few people had begun to scatter on the beach.

She heard the sound of DJ running up behind her, squealed and jumped onto the pier that ran alongside her father’s boat. She noted the name "Alayna" painted in brush script across the hull and briefly wondered why she’d never known anything about it.

Then laughter gurgled from her as DJ bounded from belowdeck and chased after her. She took off at a full run. . .went the wrong way.

Helplessly she turned, saw him approaching speedily and held out her hands. Her back to the water, her face aching with laughter, she had nowhere to go.

"Don’t you dare. DJ. . .don’t you. . ."

But he was there, his arms gripping her playfully as her arms wrapped around his neck, clung tightly and she giggled like a child.

"What? Don’t. . .what?’

He held his face back so that the sun danced in his eyes, glinting off the golden sparkles that swam in the green. "Hmm?" He held her there, her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs around his waist, her face pressed into the hollow above his collar bone. "Throw you in? You thought I was going to throw you in?"

Tongue in cheek, she nodded slowly. "Wouldn’t be the first time."