Page 60 of Butterflies and Hazel Eyes
“Trees down,” Simon returned, his breath coming quickly. “I’m checking on my guys,” he yelled into the receiver.
“Ten-four, keep me posted.”
I jumped up, giving him my shoulder to lead him to the cot. He sat and tapped the walkie-talkie in his hand. “God, I don’t need this,” he said, lowering his head. “I hope they’re okay.”
I rubbed his back to comfort him the best I could. “They’re professionals. I’m sure they’re fine.”
The radio crackled, and Simon’s voice was choppy among the static. “Everyone is okay. The trees missed the business but took out all the power lines. One of the lines is lying across the garage area. I hope your friend has nowhere to go.”
Gulliver depressed the button again as he spoke. “No, she’s here to stay,” he said, his head hanging a bit when he realized what he’d said, “for the night. We’re going to turn in, but if you need me, call me over the radio. I’ll keep it close.”
“Ten-four. It appears the worst is over. I’ll report the downed lines, but I doubt we’ll get anyone out here before morning to take care of it.”
“Thanks, Simon,” Gulliver responded, releasing the button and setting the walkie-talkie on the bed. “We could go upstairs,” he explained to me, “but we don’t have any power up there or air-conditioning.”
I tenderly rubbed at the back of his neck to relax him. “I’m okay down here. If there’s a bathroom close by, I could use one.”
He pointed at a door across the room from us. “Go ahead and get cleaned up. There are some clean shirts in there, too, if you want to put on something to sleep in.”
I kissed his cheek and stood. “Hold my spot. I’ll be right back,” I promised.
I held the door long enough to see his head in his hands before I closed it. It was easy to see he was starting to crack under the pressure of the business coupled with my indecision about what I wanted out of life. I locked the door and leaned against it. I had to make a decision and it had to be the right one, but what that was, I didn’t have a clue.
CHAPTER 18
I woke slowly to Gulliver’s hand stroking a pattern from my cheek up and over my ear. “What time is it?” I asked sleepily.
“It’s only midnight,” he answered softly. “I can’t sleep. I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“You’re okay,” I whispered, flipping over to face him. “Why can’t you sleep? Worried?” I asked, rubbing at the frown lines near his eyes. “Are the guys okay upstairs?”
He grasped my hand and lifted it to his lips to kiss. “They’re fine. No damage to the building, just trees in the parking lot and leaves and branches everywhere. They’re standing guard since the security system might be sketchy with the power outage.”
“I’m glad they’re here, even though I feel guilty for being safe down here while they aren’t.”
Gulliver chuckled lazily. “They have guns, so don’t feel too guilty. They’re professionals. Now get some sleep.”
I rolled my head back and forth on the pillow. “I can’t. Not if you aren’t. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’d rather kiss you,” he whispered, his lips landing on mine before I could blink or even take a breath. He held me close on the narrow cot, and his tongue teased its way past my open lips. The velvety kiss cleared my mind of everything but how wonderful he made me feel. The stroking of his tongue against mine drove me to thrust against the hardness hiding under his thin cotton shorts.
“How alone are we?” My voice was breathy when I broke the kiss to speak.
“We’re locked in and completely alone,” he said, diving back to my lips in a frenzy of tongues, hands, and moans of pleasure.
Caught up in his fever pitch, I added my heat until we nearly combusted from just the kiss. Gulliver tugged my T-shirt up as he grasped my earlobe in his teeth. “Stay still,” he ordered, and I did the best I could as his hands roamed my breasts and down to my triangle. “God, Charity,” he moaned in my ear when his fingers parted me, and he discovered how ready I was for him. “Tell me you want this,” he ground out as he thrust against me, his need powerful against my belly.
“With everything in me,” I promised.
His lips feathered kisses along my neck and collarbone while he worked his shorts off.
“Gulliver,” I moaned, pressing myself into him, “I want to feel you.”
His strong arms lowered me over him, and he slid inside on a moan.
“Oh God, yeah,” I cried. “How do we fit together so perfectly every time, Gulliver?”
“Because we’re made for each other,” he whispered, his breath raising goose bumps across my skin. “Don’t move,” he ground out, and his tone told me I shouldn’t argue. It took everything I had to not squirm against his hand holding my back tautly. “Give me the control, baby,” he hissed into my ear.
