Tempest Court. Jan Walters
answering, he tossed the book to the floor and yanked the sheet off Lisa. He stood there assessing, taking in every curve and dip of her lithe body. His erection lengthened. She turned toward him. The oversized shirt gaped open. Her breasts jutted forward, waiting for his touch. The rose-colored nipples puckered and hardened as he stared at them. He reached out his hand to touch and squeeze, yet his hand fell to his side. At that moment, he realized his feelings were more than any physical attraction. Every day they spent together was a day he realized that he didn’t want to be without her.
She tentatively reached out and ran a finger around the top of his trousers. His stomach clenched as her finger dipped down the front of his pants. Her finger rubbed the tip of his penis. His unrelenting gaze captured hers. A moan escaped his tight lips. A slight smile curved her lips. Witch! She knew he was in agony.
He dropped to his knees, grasping her hand in his. He lifted her hand to his mouth, gently sucking each finger, pulling in and out. Lisa’s eyes smoldered. He reached out and ripped her T-shirt in two, right down the middle.
He smothered her gasp with his mouth. Hot. Plundering. He wouldn’t give any quarter. His emotions ran rampant—something he’d never experienced with her before.
He rose, tearing off the rest of his clothes. He straddled her body and yanked her downward so that he could sink inside of Lisa. Her hands wrapped about his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. As their tongues dueled, the fire within him grew. His skin crawled with heat. He was combustible. With a growl, he gripped her hands and pinned them above her head.
He sank between her legs, groaning as she wrapped her ankles behind him. Pressure mounted. Faster, he pounded. The roaring in his ears blocked out any other sound. A sheen of sweat covered his body. She stiffened and convulsed beneath him. Her cries shattered any remaining control he had. His roar filled the room. His body shuttered with release. He pulled her to him, drawing her closer. Then it dawned on him. Damn! He was in love.
Wrapped in each other’s arms, he lost track of time. When his heart slowed to a normal pace, he slowly let go and rolled next to Lisa.
Her hand was resting over her closed eyes. Had he hurt her?
With a slight nudge, he asked, “Are you okay?”
Silence. Now he was worried. “Lisa, I didn’t mean…”
She scrambled across the bed and pounced on his stomach. Her blue eyes narrowed.
“What was that all about, O’Shea?”
Crap! He’d been too aggressive. “I don’t know. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Her brows drew together. “Hurt me?” she whispered. “Brett, you didn’t hurt me.”
Relief flooded him. “I didn’t?”
“No. It was the best climax-jolting sex I’ve ever had.” Her eyes twinkled at him.
“It was good, wasn’t it?”
She nodded. “You can go all Tarzan-like anytime you want, lover boy.”
He pulled up the blanket and wrapped his arm about Lisa. Within minutes, Lisa fell asleep. Sex always made him fall asleep, except for tonight.
Tonight, his thoughts drifted back to Layla’s comment about the little girl. It still bothered him. There were too many things going on that seemed to tie back to the Egyptian exhibit. Was Michael’s precognition ability transferring to him? He hoped not. He didn’t want to know what was going to happen in the future. It would be a surefire formula for nightmares.
Chapter 15
Henry led Sam, the new guard, into the exhibition hall. “In this room, you need to check the exhibits and make sure no one has tampered with anything and that nothing is missing.”
“Wow, is that a real mummy?” Sam pointed.
Henry sighed. These young guys were all the same. They were all looking to move on and get a higher-paying job. In three months, he’d probably be training someone else.
“Yes, that’s a real mummy.”
Sam stood at the glass case, looking down at the mummy. “Man, that’s one ugly dude. I’d hate to meet him in a dark alley.”
Henry glared at the younger man. Arms covered with tattoos, Sam was in his early twenties. Even though he wore long-sleeved shirts, Henry spotted the ink markings in the locker room. Sam always had a phone in his hand. Whenever Henry asked him to put it away, Sam would whine. Henry didn’t get what was so special with Insta this and Insta that. Why don’t people pick up the phone and call anymore? Text messages drove him batty.
“If you had been dead for over two thousand years, you wouldn’t look so great yourself.”
Sam chuckled. It was obvious the guy missed the sarcasm directed at him.
“Really? Who knew that mummies were that old?”
Henry’s brow rose. “If you’re going to work at the Art Center, you could at least try to learn something about the exhibits.”
“That’s what Google is for,” Sam remarked. “After all, I’m a guard, not a guide.”
“How silly of me. I should have known.”
Sam gave him an odd look. “Are you being a smart-ass?”
Wide-eyed, Henry shook his head. “Who, me? Nah. Just commenting. Now as I was explaining, you need to come through here every couple of hours and check everything.”
“Got it.”
Glancing at his watch, Henry walked toward the door. “It’s lunchtime. Let’s go eat.”
Sam groaned. “Man, I’m never going to get used to eating supper, I mean, breakfast at two in the morning.”
Henry laughed. “Yeah, you will. Just takes time.”
After dinner, the men walked the perimeter of the building, checking on doors and windows. Henry glanced at Sam. “Why don’t you go check out the Egyptian hall, and I’ll do the rest of the building.”
“Sure.”
“When you’re done, come down to the break room,” Henry gruffly ordered. “That way I’ll know you’re done.”
Sam gave a half salute and headed down the hallway. It had been a quiet night. Frost was in the air. Even street traffic was nonexistent tonight.
An hour later, Henry entered the break room and poured himself a cup of coffee. Sam should be coming soon. Henry was a little surprised that the younger guard hadn’t beaten him back here. Maybe Sam was more thorough than he anticipated.
He opened a magazine and began reading. A loud thump came from the end of the hallway. Henry glanced back at the clock. It was nearly four. Sam had been gone for two hours. “Shit!” muttering to himself. “If that little dimwit has been sitting somewhere playing games on the damned phone, there’s going to be hell to pay.”
Henry went to the doorway of the break room and stared down the dark hallway. No one was there. The sound of a door closing echoed through the air. Sam must have gone to the bathroom. With a snort, he adjusted his trousers and sucked in his stomach. He had to quit eating candy all night. It was killing his waistline.
After twenty minutes, Sam still hadn’t returned. Henry marched down the hall to the bathroom. Opening the door, he called out, “Sam, where the hell have you been?”
Silence. The hairs on the back of Henry’s neck stood on end. He pulled the gun from the holster and slowly entered the bathroom. His hand shook, and the barrel of the gun wavered up and down. He ducked down and looked under the stall doors. One by one. Fearful of what he would discover.
“Sam, are you in here?” Reaching the last stall, he saw Sam’s legs were stretched out. A surge of relief coursed through him. He straightened,