She should be dancing on the ceiling. Instead her limbs felt as though they weighed a thousand pounds apiece.
Where was the fizzy high she derived from a good news story? Her spirit was as flat as three-day-old champagne.
Sleep deprivation. That was it. Once she had napped for several hours, she would be right as rain. Her old self.
Recharged and ready.
Back in the bedroom, she took a tank top and briefs from her suitcase and put them on, set her travel alarm clock, then turned down the bed. The sheets looked soft and inviting. It occurred to her that her knees and palms might bleed on them, but she was beyond caring.
When she heard the knock, she took it for another ping in the air conditioner's mechanism. But when it was followed by a second, she moved to the door and pulled it open.
CHAPTER 16
He stepped inside, closed the door behind him, removed his sunglasses and hat, and set them on the table beside the untouched basket of goodies the ladies from the Catholic church had prepared for her.
He smelled of sunshine and soap; he was freshly shaved.
He had on clean but well-worn Levi's and a plain white shirt, a western tooled-leather belt, and cowboy boots.
If a team of mustangs had been pulling Tiel in the opposite direction, they couldn't have stopped her from throwing herself against him. Or maybe he reached for her. Afterward, she didn't recall who moved first. And anyway, who initiated it was unimportant.
All that mattered was that he drew her into an all-encompassing embrace. Her body was flush with his, and they held each other tightly. Her brimming tears flowed freely and were absorbed by the cloth of his shirt. He covered the back of her head with his wide hand and pressed her face into his chest to cushion the sobs that issued from her in short, noisy bursts.
"Did he die? Are you here to tell me that Ronnie is dead?"
"No, that's not why I'm here. I don't know any news about Ronnie."
"I guess that's good."
"I guess."
"I couldn't believe it, Doc. That sound. That horrible, deafening sound. Then to see him lying there so still, amidst all that glass and blood. More blood."
"Shh."
Comforting words were whispered across her hairline, along her temple. Then the words ceased, and only his breath, his lips, drifted over her brow, touching her damp eyelids. Tiel raised her head and looked at him through tearful eyes. Reaching up to touch his face, she made a small sound of want, which he echoed.
A heartbeat later, his lips were on hers. Insistent and hungry, they rubbed hers apart. Their tongues flirted, stroked, before his dominated. It claimed and explored her mouth. Tiel's hands met at the back of his neck. She threaded her fingers up through his hair and submitted to his kiss, which was symbolically, blatantly sexual.
As though boosted by a powerful stimulant, her senses quickened. Each sensory receptor was sharpened to a fine point. She had never felt more alive, yet she was also a little afraid. Like a child at her first carnival, she was dazzled and dazed by the sensual onslaught, enthralled by it, overwhelmed by it, apprehensive of it, and yet
eager to experience it.
His belt buckle gouged her tummy, but it wasn't an unpleasant sensation. The cold metal turned warm against the strip of bare skin between the hem of her tank top and her bikini line. Strong and confident, his hands settled on her lower back and pulled her closer.
He kissed his way down her throat. She angled her head to one side, and he feathered her earlobe with his breath, his tongue. Following the course of her head, she turned her body slowly, enabling him to kiss the side of her neck, her shoulder. Lifting her hair, he kissed her nape. The touch of his mouth there sent shivers of delight up her spine.
With her back to him now, she leaned against his wide chest while his hands smoothed over her front. He pressed her breasts beneath his palms, cupped them, reshaped them, before his hands continued down to her rib cage-which he was almost able to encase. At her hipbones, his hands rested.
Tingling with arousal, her movements against him were feline, shameless, inviting. He responded by slipping his hand into the front of her briefs, down, down deep into the vee of her thighs.
When he found her center, she murmured his name, turned her head, and sought his lips with hers.
They kissed while his fingers continued to caress, separate, penetrate. She came up on tiptoes, her body arching outward, straining toward his hand, until her shoulder blades were propped against his collarbone and her head was grinding into his shoulder.
She placed her hand over his, urging his fingers higher.
But that still wasn't good enough. She wanted to be close to him. As close as she could be… and she wasn't nearly close enough.