I leaned forward and my hair fell into my face. She ran her hands through the mass and pushed the strands back for me.
“Uh,” I said, shaking my head, “all over, but there’s one particular place that reminds me so much of you.”
“Where?” she murmured.
“Lake Maracaibo, Venezuela.”
“What’s there?” she murmured into my ear, bringing the side of my face to hers.
I spoke slowly, under the influence of her touch. “A, uh, a natural phenomena called Catatumbo Lightning.” She lightly bit my earlobe and my head fell forward a bit. “Cricket,” I mumbled.
“Hmm? Oh, yes, the Catatumbo Lightning.”
“It occurs at the mouth of the Catatumbo River,” I spoke into her neck. “Ceaseless, extraordinary bursts of lightning descend from a body of storm clouds that form a voltage arc more than three miles high. It’s magnificent, Cricket. It’s a constant barrage of remarkable light and it burns over and over. I sat at the outermost peak of the Andes nearest Lake Maracaibo and was dazzled for hours. If the sun had never risen, I couldn’t have left it. I would have been a prisoner to its overpowering beauty.” I sat up a little and looked at her. “You are Catatumbo Lightning, Cricket. You’ve caught me.”
My hand covered her throat and I let my thumb circle the side of her neck over and over. Our breaths got heavier, cumbersome. My lids felt weighted and I closed them briefly when her hands found my shoulders.
Oh my God, you’re going to kiss Cricket Hunt.
My hand slid to the back of her neck, my thumb smoothed across her jawbone. I drew near her, my heart pounding through my shirt. I let the weight of my body sink into hers.
“Am I too heavy?” I asked.
Her drowsy eyes found my own. “I like the pressure,” she sighed, giving me a greater buzz, “the potency of it.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to kiss you,” I confided. “Can you feel my heart exploding?”
She nodded. “Can you feel mine?”
My hand moved to a pulse point on her neck and I counted the beats.
“Nervous?” I asked.
She nodded again. “Overwrought, thrilled.”
I forced myself to relax and ran my hand down her throat. Lazily, I unbuttoned the top of her coat and ran my hand over the lace across her breastplate. I breathed deeply in and out of my nose. My hand followed back up her neck and gently closed around her throat once more. I lowered my face and hovered just above her lips. Ever so lightly, I ran my bottom lip across her hers eliciting a shiver. I did the same thing once more, but this time I skimmed the tip of my tongue as well, just so I could taste her, just so I could know what I was in for, and my God did she taste extraordinary.
I pulled away and she objected, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling me so close, I could taste her without touching.
“Kiss me,” she ordered, and I was helpless to comply.
I crushed my mouth with hers and she moaned into my throat, spurring me on. I moved with her and we kissed like we were made for each other. Her saccharine tongue melted with mine, and I found my hands pressing her back, pushing her deeper into me.
We broke to catch our breath and to gauge the other, to see if it was truly as powerful as it appeared. Click. It seemed it was. Her labored breaths fanned across my face and she grappled to get nearer. I drove my tongue into hers once again, and I felt intact once more, as if a piece of me hadn’t gone suddenly missing.
“Blackwell,” she exhaled into my lips.
“Hunt,” I answered against her mouth.
But she forgot what she needed to say and showed me instead, sitting up, never breaking our kiss and tossing her jacket to the side, her arms now completely unconstrained. She threaded her hands through my hair, frenzied in her need to get closer, and pressed the kiss even deeper.
The kiss broke and my lips found her throat. “You belong to me,” I claimed possessively, biting her carefully, reaping me a cottony gasp.
Her lips found mine again and we kissed with renewed fervor, eager to learn the other’s lips and mouth and tongue.
We kissed for hours, no one curious as to where we were, more than likely because my truck was still outside the main house. When the sun started to make an appearance, I knew it was time to go, though I was loath to leave.
“Cricket,” I pleaded between kisses, “I have to take you back or your grandmother will kill me.”