LACHLAN

I found Heather in the atrium, staring out at the night as I had done.  I wondered if she was remembering too.  I felt warmth creep up my neck to color my cheeks.  We'd only had one night together but we'd given each other such a raw, naked view of ourselves... both physically and emotionally.  I couldn't help but be uncomfortable, even as I realized I still felt that inexplicable freedom to share with her the parts of myself I usually kept well hidden.  She'd seen parts of me nobody else had.... I think because I wasn't trying to impress her or woo her or be anything to her but Lachlan Curry stripped down to his most vulnerable self. 

Even with spouses, children and more than a decade between now and then.... that old feeling was still there, like giving her anything less than my naked self was wrong somehow.  Perhaps that's why I'd always felt saddened by her distance.  Some part of me recognized what was missing and mourned the loss of it. 

Still, it wasn't easy.  Such brutal honesty never is.  I approached her quietly, faltering a bit as intimate memories from our night together bombarded me.  I flashed on an image of her under me, arching against my body in that moment I first joined us and took her innocence.  Heard her soft cry as desire's blade pierced her tender, untried flesh.  Felt her clench tight around me.  I shook the image away only to be assaulted with another.  Her dark head bent between my open legs.  My head between hers.  The taste of us in my mouth.... 

More images followed, each more intimate than the last.... her on her back, on her hands and knees, on the floor, against the wall..... rough and hard... deep and slow.... A thousand different memories and yet under them all was the sense of wild abandon and tender care for each other.  It reminded me of something I read once. 

Those who restrain desire do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained.   

Ours was a night without hesitation or reservation of any kind.  Neither of us held anything back.  I wonder what that means?  I felt a stirring between my legs as my body and my mind reacted to the images in my head. I made no effort to conceal it from her.  To do so would have been an insult to us both.  I had no desire to hide anything from her.

There were a million things I wanted to say to her in that moment as she finally turned and saw me standing there.  I wanted to apologize.  To tell her I hadn't really forgotten.  To tell her how much it meant to me.  To thank her.

What popped out instead was: "That night.... I didn't hurt you, did I?"  Cursing my wayward mouth, I flushed and put my hands in my pockets, turning from her to look out into the night.  Just because I felt I could be open with her didn't make this moment any easier.

"Yes."  So softly I almost didn't hear it.  I could see her reflection in the glass.  She was blushing and her fingers were worrying the soft fringe on her shawl.  I felt a hot stick of dread at her words.  I knew I hadn't been gentle with her but I'd never meant to hurt her.  "Not like you mean, though....."  She blushed deeper and pulled her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders.  "A good hurt."

I felt a wholly inappropriate rush of masculine pride at that.  Fair dinkum, that night had been something, all right.  A long, uncomfortable silence stretched out between us.  Bloody hell.  Just because I felt like I could talk to her didn't mean I knew what the fuck to say.  Jesus.  What could I say?  Everything in my head sounded like some flip answer, some trite excuse for forgetting her face.  So I did the only thing I could think of.  I opened my wallet, withdrew the note she'd left me and held it out to her.  "I didn't forget everything," I admitted softly.

Her eyes widened as she fingered the small scrap of paper, worn thin from having been folded and refolded over the years.  I must have touched it a thousand times.  Our eyes met.  There was a question in hers.  What did you remember, Lachlan?

"I remembered this..."  Careful not to touch her, I fingered one of her dark curls and dropped my hand.  "And you don't smell of lavender anymore."  She made a soft choking sound in her throat and brushed away her tears at the proof I really hadn't forgotten.  I wanted to hold her but that was one desire I could restrain.  I'd learned first hand the kind of price the Piper demanded for touching another man's wife.  "...And I've carried your peace in here," I touched my chest, "every night since then."

Her mouth rounded into a soft 'O'.  "I never imagined...."

I nodded.  "I just didn't remember the rest of it until tonight."  When I woke that morning, my body had told me I'd loved hard... but I hadn't remembered the intimate details.  I did now.  Every last one of them.  In Technicolor. 

"The rest of it....?"

I gave her a pointed look and she blushed to the roots of her hair.  Truth be told, my own cheeks felt a little warm.  I looked away, again at a loss for words.  How do you even begin to address someone who not only watched over you during one of the worst nights of your life- but walked through the fire with you as well?  I cleared my throat and just launched into it, unwilling to cheapen the moment by making small talk.  She'd left me to fly home because her Mum was sick.  "Your Mum... did she?"

She shook her head and sniffed back fresh tears.  

"Oh, love... I'm sorry."

"It's all right.... it was a long time ago."  She smiled but it didn't touch her eyes.  Oh, sweetheart.... "What about you, Lach?"

"Me?"

She nodded.  "Were you OK after...."  her little fingers were worrying the fringe on her shawl again.  "Did you have a good life?"

No small talk for her either, it seems.  I grinned.  "I did, love.  Had a bit of a walkabout.  Saw the world.  Flew some planes.  Fell in love.  Had a family."  A sudden thought flashed through me, twisting my guts.  We hadn't used any protection.  Oh, God.  "I.... I didn't leave you in trouble, did I?"

That hung there a moment and then comprehension dawned in her eyes.  She shook her head.  "No...."  Her arms crossed more tightly over her middle and her face became unreadable.  "No babies..."  She seemed so sad.  She sighed softly and traced the words on the little note she still had in her hand. 

I won't forget.

She handed it back to me with a gentle smile.   

I held up my hands and shook my head.  "You keep it, love..... I don't need it anymore."  Her eyes met mine and I tapped my temple.  "I've got the real McCoy in here now, gorgeous."

She laughed but I didn't miss the nervous glance she threw towards the door.  I knew both of us needed to go back.  Soon.  She slipped the scrap of paper into her little clutch purse and I patted my pockets, smiling at her as I withdrew the small pewter flask I always carry.

"Fancy a goodbye drink?"  I reckoned it was as good a way as any to put a capper on this golden moment of ours. 

She nodded and then laughed when she saw it.  "I can't believe you still have that!"

"You mad, girl?  Course I do."  I laughed along with her and wagged my finger at her.  "And don't think you're bloody getting this little beauty back."  I unscrewed the cap and handed it to her.  "I've grown rather attached to it over the years."

She brought it to her face and took a delicate sniff.  "Scotch?"

I shook my head.  "Bourbon."  It was bourbon we'd been drinking that night.  I'd poured out the crap tequila I'd found in the flask and refilled it with the last of the bourbon from the bottle we'd shared that night.  After that, bourbon was the only thing I ever put in it.  So I'm a sentimental bastard.  I didn't tell her but the look in her eyes said she'd sussed me out on that score. 

She parted her lips, raised it to her mouth- and then paused.  "What shall we drink to?"

It was on the tip of my tongue to say 'old lovers' but even I'm not that cheeky.  "How 'bout old acquaintances, love?"

Her eyes sparkled and I recognized that wild light that I'd always been drawn to.  She raised it to me and said, "To friendships, old and new," before taking a sip and passing it back to me.

"To friendship.... ever and always, hey?"  I took a healthy swallow and tried to ignore the strange feeling speaking those words to her engendered in me.  And my God, she might not smell of lavender anymore, but I could taste her on the flask and that flavor sure as hell hadn't changed. 

"Ever and always," she echoed.  I felt a sudden moment of deja vu.  Those words.  Her slender figure wrapped in a blue shawl.  A poignant goodbye......... Crazy, I know.  I'd never had a moment with her like that.  Not in this life, anyway.  Still, I could tell she felt it too.

Something electric passed between us.  Her fingers fluttered.  She reached for me and then checked the gesture.  "Can I.....?"

I nodded.  It was the most chaste of touches.  Nothing more than her palm upon my cheek.  Not love.  Not illicit passion.  Not even friendship.  It was deeper than that.  More base. 

I remember you.

I closed my eyes as this most incredible feeling of peace washed over me.  She dropped her hand a moment later.  Neither of us said a single word.  We didn't even look at each other.  I just stood there, hands in my pockets... and she just stood there wrapped in that blue shawl... and we both just stared out at the night.  Together. 

Not two ticks later, the atrium door opened.  There was no need for us to spring apart as we weren't even close to each other... but I knew it still looked bad.  And I knew who it was even before I turned around.  I was right.  Her husband stood in the doorway.  He said nothing, just cleared his throat softly as he held the door open wider and waited for her to join him.

She left without ever looking back.  

He looked, though.  And his eyes were hard.  They carried one very clear message.  I've given you this moment out of respect for her... but you touch her again and I'll touch you, pal.  You got that?

I got it loud and clear.  

He didn't need to play games about who would hold eye contact longer.  The dangerous ones never do.  They don't play games.  I'd know.  I don't either.  He simply nodded once, put his hand on the small of her back and led her away without so much as a single word.  

DINO          

I was dangerously close to being out of control.  Emotionally.  Physically.  Odd, considering there was no one thing I could put my finger on to explain away the strange feeling in my chest tonight.  From the moment I saw recognition flutter over her face - and his - and then watched her walk away from us both, I'd felt like I was riding a razor's edge.  Despair on one side.  Hope on the other.  Just the slimmest path between them, ready to cut me to ribbons if I made even the lightest misstep. 

I left Andy with Terry and followed her.  She was upset and I was worried.  There will never be a time I don't watch over her.  Never.  She didn't see me.  I have way too many years of experience at creeping around undetected to be caught by anyone less than the best.  It's a handy skill.  Never imagined using it with my wife though.

She meandered a bit and eventually wound up in the atrium.  Nice place.  The flowers were pretty.  During my first walkthrough when we were considering the estate as a viable place for this little shindig, I remember thinking I'd like to have her there among the orchids; wanted to watch her riding me while I reclined on one of the well placed chaises.  And if the circumstances tonight were different, I might have followed her in and given it a shot... but I read people and situations for a living and the smart money was on Curry turning up for a little chat once he got his shit together.

I would have.

Which pretty much left me with two choices.  Plan A:  Act like a jealous controlling asshole and strong arm her back to our room after punching Curry's lights out- which I have to say was more tempting an option than it should have been.  Or- Plan B:  Let them meet now, in a setting I could control, rather than take my chances with the unknown later.  I might be pissed off and jealous as hell... but I'm hardly so insecure that I'd deny them a simple conversation. 

Any idiot watching them tonight could work it out that he'd remembered.  Wonder what rung his bells?  It only followed suit that he'd approach her- most likely with an apology if he knows what's good for him.  I can't imagine that would be an easy conversation.  Hey, honey... sorry I took your cherry and then forgot about it for a fucking decade.... 

Somehow, I found myself unable to muster even the slightest bit of sympathy for him.  Still, I knew she'd want to talk to him.  I didn't own her.  I knew she'd had a life before me and was entitled to lay her old ghosts to rest.  I could live with that.  But she was fragile right now.  Both of us were... and if you think I'd let this all go down without keeping an eye on her- and him too- you're fucking nuts.     

So, I did what any man with my skills would do.  Slipped out the back and took up a post outside with a clear line of sight to the atrium.  The soft lighting inside gave me a perfect view of her and the darkness outside made it pathetically easy for me to conceal myself in the shadows.

She stood there, mostly still.  Absently playing with an orchid blossom while she stared out at the night.  He turned up about a quarter hour later, just as I predicted.  Sometimes I fucking hate to be right.  So, they talked.  He gave her something.... then he gave her a drink.  That pissed me off a little.  She knows she's not supposed to be drinking now.  And then she touched his cheek.  That pissed me off a lot.  Time for this little conversation to be over.  I moved.  Swiftly.

I'm not really quite sure what reaction I was expecting after my high-handed extraction.  He didn't challenge me.  Smart move, pal.  It also didn't ruffle him.  He didn't even take his hands out of his pockets.  Pretty cocky considering the possibility I might have thrown a punch.  That told me everything I needed to know about him. 

She was another matter entirely.  I was half expecting her to tear me a new one once we were out of earshot.  She'd never bring me down in front of someone else- but she had a temper and wasn't afraid to let me have it, especially when she thought I deserved it.  As I did then.  I could feel myself beginning to stumble along the razor's edge.  Felt the first stinging cuts as I extracted her from the room. 

I was totally unprepared for her reaction when I led her away with my hand on her back.  I thought she'd jerk away from my touch.  It was more than a little possessive and I make no apologies for that.  She is my woman.  But instead of pulling away defensively, she leaned into me with this full body press and just breathed me in so deep.  Closed her eyes and just melted right into me with this soft little sigh of absolute and utter contentment.

It diffused me just that fast.  

It felt so good to feel her instinctive response to me.  She was as unable to hide it from me as I was unable to keep my momentary possessive lapse from her.  Her soft reaction was a touch that said: You're my home.  My shelter from the world.  I put my arm around her waist and drew her closer, tucking her head under my chin.  You're my home too, honey.

Still, I was aware we hadn't even begun to deal with the issues underneath all this.  We'd shelved them once before when I'd stumbled across her journal and for the most part, they'd remained there, gathering dust until tonight.

I pressed a soft kiss to her hair but still left my arm possessively around her as we walked down the hall.  I knew she'd be able to feel the damp clinging to my clothes and feel my cold cheeks and know that I'd been outside.  She gave me a look that said she had a pretty good idea of exactly what it is I'd been doing out there.  Her chin came up a little.  I wanted to laugh.  Her face said she was both touched that I'd watched over her and annoyed that I'd intruded on her privacy.  Well, tough shit, honey.  Between this Pull crap and this fucking weird feeling in my chest, I wasn't taking any chances. 

We passed a small shadowy alcove and I pulled her inside, using my body to shelter us both- not to box her in but to steal a moment with her and block out the world.  Our eyes met.  "Is he going to be a problem?"  She shook her head.  I considered my next words carefully, knowing one wrong slip and the razor's edge would cut us both deeply.  "Are you done with this now?"  She nodded.  Good.  I didn't want to have to worry about any more private conversations like the one I'd watched tonight.  I searched her eyes.  "There anything you want to say to me, honey?"       

"Yes."  I braced myself for it- and again, she surprised me.  "Make love to me."

I gave her a hard look.  There was a wild light in her eyes that seemed to speak directly to that strange out-of-control feeling in my chest.  Anger flared inside me, and for a second, I was unable to keep from wondering if she only wanted me to put out the fire another man had started in her... but that niggling doubt quickly passed as I read something else entirely in her.  Her body language was demure and her face was utterly open.  No artifice whatsoever.

She moved against me sensually.  "I want you to make love to me, Dean...."  Putting her lips to my ear, she whispered just two little words and I was lost.  Take me.

I knew, then, exactly what this was about.  She wanted me to take her.  To take charge.  To fuck her.  Hard.  But what she wanted most of all was for me to make her feel like she was mine.  And for me to feel it too.  And to be honest, I needed it just as much as she did.

I also needed to get her out of this hallway.  Now.  Things were about to get very, very out of control.  I took her straight to our room.  Andy would be safe with Terry until I got back.  I sure as hell couldn't fetch him with a tent in the front of my pants and Heather was all but mewling for it. 

When the fertility thing wasn't fucking with us, we were just as capable of getting as freaky as any other couple... but this was something beyond that.  Like she was a fever in my blood.  We were wild for it.  For each other.  Out of control.               

Her hands were frantic at my belt.  I pushed her down on the bed, flicked up her skirt and ripped down her skimpy panties.  She writhed under me, watching as I brought them to my face and inhaled her scent.  My mouth watered.  Blood roared in my ears.  I tossed them aside and covered her with my body, coming down hard.  Letting her feel my full weight as I suckled and kissed at her neck.  The feel of her overwhelmed me.  The world spun.  I felt high.  Powerful.

And absolutely out of control.

She was whimpering under me, pulling at my clothes, my hair, my body.  Rubbing her crotch against my leg.  Flicking her tongue along my collarbone.  Tasting my neck.  She licked my chin and I almost lost it.  Christ.  I needed a breather.  I couldn't take control of her if I was out of control myself.  And I knew tonight, of all nights, she needed me in control of both of us.  I pulled back, stopping her with a single word when she reached for me. 

"No."

I nearly lost it again seeing her there, her dark hair mussed over the pillows, legs spread, filmy little dress rucked up and rumpled.  The narrow little strap was falling off one shoulder and her cheeks were pink.  Her chest too.  Sex flush.  She looked incredibly vulnerable and I wanted her just like that.  Playing Disheveled Innocent to my Big Bad Wolf.  She wanted it too. 

Truth be told, there are times she wants nothing more than to be completely in my power... yet in a way that's about trust rather than submission.  And to be fair, there are times I want her like that.  I have a darker more dominant side to my nature that I usually keep under a tight rein... but sometimes, like tonight, I indulge us both.

I moved away, but only far enough to toe off my shoes and strip down.  She reached for the lacing on her dress and I stopped her. 

"Leave it on, honey."

Her chest heaved as she looked at me with wild eyes.  Teasing me.  Pushing me.  Still pulling slowly at the laces.  I knew why.  She wanted me to stop her.  She liked it when I was in control but she always challenged me to keep it.  I circled her slender ankle with my fingers and raised my eyebrow in warning.  Some little warning light was flashing in my brain, telling me this was a bad, bad idea considering how close to the edge we both were... and yet I still couldn't stop. 

I moved.  She gasped as I covered her again, this time pinning her hands and kissing her deeply, enjoying the feel of her slender body struggling under me.  I kissed down her neck and she moaned, murmuring sex words to me.   

"Yesss!  God!  I want you.... Bite me.... fuck me..."

I did.  Suckled a bite and growled against her throat.  "Wrap your legs around me, honey... Open up... let me at you...."  I lined us up and pushed.  "Jesus... take it all... Christ, you're so tight..... More... take more..."  Set a hard rhythm for her- and for me.  I wanted her to feel this tomorrow.  Wanted her to feel the sweet ache and to know with every movement she made that she was mine. 

Some part of me knew we should be making love more softly, the way that we do to build sanctuary in each other.  God, we hadn't done that for so long.... and yet being rough with her in this different way felt so goddamn good.  I just couldn't stop. 

I rolled us.  I wanted to watch her.  "Ride me!"  Her head fell back as she moved over me.  Taking me so deep.  I struggled to stay in control of both of us.  Cupped her breasts through the gauzy fabric of her dress, squeezing and pinching.  She cried out and moved harder on me.  Christ.... so close. 

Her hands covered mine and guided them up to her throat, wrapping them around her neck.  I indulged her for a moment but when she dropped her arms to brace against my shoulders, I let my hands fall.  She brought them back, this time with more pressure.  I got the message.  She just didn't want to feel my hands there.  She wanted to feel me squeeze.

Not enough to cut off her breath... but enough to feel my strength, my power.  And enough for me to feel her vulnerability.  I knew it was almost not right... and yet I did it anyway.  She didn't look away from my eyes.  "More... Dean.... harder...."  I fucked her harder.  Squeezed harder too.  So, so not OK... and the fact that I enjoyed it only made it worse.  Got us off both harder than we had in a long time.  She came, crying my name.  I followed, exerting downward pressure on her with my hands to force myself as deep as I could go, grunting with each wet pulse.

We collapsed together, spent physically and emotionally, whispering a quiet 'I love you' against each other's sweaty skin.  Tears on both of us as we said it.  She just curled into me and clung so hard.  I stroked her back and pet her hair.  We just lay there, rocking each other.  Not talking.  To be honest, I wasn't sure if what we'd just done had drained the poison building between us or made it worse. 

I turned her face to mine and kissed her softly.  I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep with her but I had to go fetch Andy.  Christ, I'd been gone more than an hour already... and she needed to clean herself up before he saw her.  We both looked like we'd been through the wringer. 

And you know, I think we had.