Talk Sexy To Me

We know all about talking sexy to me. We know that lovers have a special language that only two of them share. The hidden looks, the longing gaze, the love shining in their eyes all accompanied by those sexy, sexy words. Sometimes, they are whispered, sometimes spoken aloud and occasionally shouted from rooftops. For Reynold it was through the centuries.

Reynold stared at the sketches. “Catherine.” Her name came as a whisper of air off his lips. He turned the page, scanning the writing. “Catherine Ann Astley died of a high fever brought on by the wet winter months in the year of 1491. I believe my cousin died of a heart broken by the spell of black magic. Should my friend Reynold Loddington return as mysteriously as he left, I am sure he will follow in her footsteps. No two people loved each other more.”

Reynold stood and turned away from the book. Catherine, dead! When I am home, Queen Isabel will pay for Catherine’s death with her own life.

Why should I wait? Isabel is right here. I must only walk out the door, into her shop, and destroy her as she destroyed Catherine. I shall avenge her death without sealing my own.

“I don’t believe in reincarnation and past lives, but the likenesses here are uncanny, don’t you think?” Courtney’s hand fell lightly on his, feeling like a feather tossed gently in the breeze.

“I must return to my home. By not being there, I show no respect for her death.” Reynold walked out into the darkness enveloping the shop, knowing he had no way of returning to possibly save Catherine.

A small hand fell upon his arm, and the smell of lavender filled his senses.

“I’m sorry, Reynold. That was centuries ago, and there’s no way to get you back where you believe you belong. Time-travel and reincarnation just don’t exist.” Her voice small and soft, she laid her head upon his shoulder. “Heartsease doesn’t exist, either, except in books like this one. It’s a myth like that of King Arthur and Camelot.”

“Thou art wrong. Black magic brought me here; it can return me in like.” He turned into the warmth of Courtney’s arms, knowing in his mind she may be right, even if his heart denied it. Only evil could send him back—the kind of evil that didn’t exist in her world. He pulled her closer to him, inhaling her very essence. The vanilla scent of her hair mingled with the lavender of her skin, awakened a wild desire.

Lifting her chin with a forefinger, he wiped away a small tear in the corner of her loving eyes. Her soft, pink lips swelled with a need for him to take them with his own. The tip of her pink tongue quickly snaked out, taunting him. He claimed the invitation her mouth sent.

She tasted of meat and potatoes. He groaned, wanting to devour every morsel of her as he had the dinner she’d prepared for him. He felt her breasts swell into him, begging him to touch them. He was being led into a dance of seduction that he easily took part in.

He pressed her to him, his hardness feverish against the softness of her belly. His mouth continued to explore her lips, licking and sucking with delirious tenderness and urgency. Lifting her, he pressed her back against the wall, her womanhood hard against his groin.

As they moaned softly into each other, Courtney wrapped her legs around his hips. A surge of heat blasting its way through him, he pressed closer into her. As close as their clothing allowed. As close as his dwindling resistance would allow.

Nay, I cannot allow this to happen. I cannot take this lady as if she were some wench seeking a tumble for the night. I have come to care too deeply for her too quickly.

“Good God, woman.” His breath coming hard and fast, Reynold held her against the wall, afraid to move another inch. “Thou hast bewitched me,” he whispered, kissing her deeply once more before slowly leaving the warmth the circle of her hips promised him. He held her as she slid down the wall, her feet padding lightly on the wooden floor, the light of lust leaving its shadow in her eyes.

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