Drina ground her teeth and leaned on the counter, her head bowing as one of his hands slid down between her legs, both caressing her through her jeans and pressing her bottom back against his hips and the hardness growing there.
When Harper suddenly used his hand at her breast to pull her upright and back against his chest, Drina leaned her head back on his shoulder. Closing her eyes, she covered his hands with hers and moaned as he nearly lifted her off the floor with the hand between her legs in his effort to affect her through her thick jeans.
“Eight minutes,” he breathed, nipping at her ear.
A breathless laugh slipping from her lips, Drina opened her eyes, and then blinked as she spotted movement in the backyard. She squinted against the bright sunlight pouring through the window, trying to make out what she’d seen, then gasped and stiffened as Harper stopped cupping her between the legs and shifted his hand to slide it down her pants. Slipping under the waistline of both jeans and panties, his fingers dove unerringly between her legs, intensifying everything for them both.
“Oh God,” Harper muttered against her neck, his caress becoming frantic as their mingled pleasure and excitement bounced between them in growing waves.
“Yes,” Drina gasped, eyes closing and hips rotating to his touch, so that she ground back against him with each movement. She was clawing at his hands now with excitement, her only thought reaching that peak they were racing toward, and then he slid two fingers inside her and sank his fangs into her neck at the same time, and Drina screamed as pleasure exploded over them.
“So tell me again about that mouse Drina saw that made her scream and faint?”
Drina turned in the front passenger seat of Harper’s BMW to make a face at Stephanie in the backseat. “All right, smarty-pants. You can read our minds and know there was no mouse. Get over it.”
“Well, even if I couldn’t read your minds, you don’t really think I would have bought that whole mouse story, do you?” Stephanie asked with amusement. “I mean, seriously, a hunter who faints at the sight of a tiny mouse?”
Drina shook her head and turned to face forward again. As usual, Harper had woken from their postcoital faint before her. He’d been trying to rouse her when Stephanie had found them on the pantry floor. She had no idea why he’d even bothered to make up the mouse story when the girl could read them so easily, but he had. As one would expect, it hadn’t gone over.
“It wasn’t exactly a postcoital faint, was it,” Stephanie said dryly. “I mean coitus is-”
“Stephanie!” she barked, swinging on her with horror.
“Well, it wasn’t,” Stephanie said defensively. “Harper didn’t actually insert part A into part B. Well, I suppose there was some insertion, but of part F not-”
“How do you know that?” Drina interrupted her teasing sharply.
Stephanie rolled her eyes. “We’ve been through this. I can read your mind, remember?”
“Yes, but I wasn’t thinking of it,” Drina said at once, aware that Harper was glancing from the road, to her, to Stephanie in the rearview mirror with a troubled frown.
Stephanie shrugged. “You must be. Otherwise, how would I know what you two did?”
Drina stared at her silently, more than troubled. She hadn’t been thinking of what she and Harper had done. She’d been thinking of the after, the waking up on the floor. Yet Stephanie apparently knew what had happened between her and Harper and obviously in detail. It should embarrass her, but she was too concerned by what the girl’s apparently pulling-not just thoughts, but-actual memories from her mind could mean to worry about embarrassment.
Usually, for an immortal to access someone’s memories, they had to get the person they were reading to recall them. Stephanie apparently could access them whether the person was thinking of them or not.
“You think I’m a freak now,” Stephanie said unhappily.
“Not a freak,” Drina said quietly. “Apparently very gifted.”
The girl relaxed and smiled a little at that. “Gifted?”
“Very,” Drina murmured, and turned in her seat to face front, doing her best to keep her thoughts as blank as possible. Stephanie’s abilities weren’t normal, but she didn’t even want to get near that thought in the girl’s presence. She needed to think, but away from Stephanie.
She also needed to find a chance to talk to Harper, Drina thought on a sigh. While she was glad he wasn’t avoiding her this morning, he had last night, and his blowing hot and then cold was leaving her uncertain and worried about the future. She had started out her journey to Port Henry determined to be patient, but that was before she’d met and spent time with him. The more Drina got to know Harper, the more emotionally invested she became, and she’d started out pretty invested to begin with for the simple reason that he was her life mate.
The moment Drina had walked into Casey Cottage, tried to read him, failed, and acknowledged that Marguerite was right, and he was her life mate, she’d thrown in half her emotional chips. But with every conversation they had, and every experience they shared, she was throwing in more chips, and Drina was afraid of getting hurt here if his guilt proved too strong for him to put aside.
“Are you feeling all right, Stephanie? You look pale.”
Harper glanced to the girl at Drina’s words and frowned as he noted her pallor.
“I’m fine, hungry is all,” Stephanie mumbled. “Can we stop and get a sundae or something on the way out? That’ll settle my stomach.”
“I don’t think it’s food you’re hungry for,” Drina said solemnly. “We’ve been at the mall for hours now, and you’re a growing girl. You need to feed.”
“I’ll get the cooler out of the trunk and put it into the backseat before we leave. She can feed on the way back,” Harper murmured, ushering them toward the exit nearest to where he’d parked.
“I don’t want to feed,” Stephanie complained, sounding as cranky as a five-year-old.
“I said you need to feed. Want doesn’t come into it,” Drina said firmly.
Harper couldn’t help but notice this made Stephanie’s lower lip protrude rebelliously. He suspected they would have a fight on their hands getting the girl to feed at this rate, and then noted the way she was rubbing her stomach, and said, “It will make your cramps go away.”
“Whatever,” Stephanie snapped, leading the way outside in a stomp.
“She just needs to feed,” Drina murmured, excusing her behavior as if worried Harper might think badly of the girl.
“I know,” he assured her, and then, finding it adorable that she would defend the girl like a mother bear with a cub, Harper slipped his arm around Drina’s waist and drew her to his side to kiss her forehead. “You’re going to be a good mother.”
She turned a stunned face to him, then quickly looked forward again, and Harper smiled wryly. He supposed she hadn’t yet considered the possibility of children. Not that he had, either. He hadn’t really considered much at all yet.
Anders’s words the night before had shaken Harper sufficiently to send him back to his room and into bed, where he’d lain contemplating the possibility of losing Drina to death. He’d been so wrapped up in his own emotional struggles, he hadn’t even considered how it might affect her. Oh, certainly, she’d made him consider that if he didn’t claim her, he might lose her to some possible alternate life mate, but that had seemed a far-off thing. Harper supposed, in his arrogance, he’d also imagined that he would have a chance to win her back in that distant future if his actions drove her away now.
But Anders’s words had made him worry about her actually dying, killed as a direct result of her emotional upheaval and distraction. The possibility had scared the crap out of him and made him face what was important here. Jenny was dead, and while he felt responsible, there was nothing he could do to bring her back or rewrite what had happened. He had grieved and been wracked by guilt for a year and a half now. How much longer would his conscience demand he suffer for a death he never imagined, let alone intended? Did he really feel he needed to lose Drina, even temporarily, to make up for the loss of Jenny? And did he really want to risk losing her permanently to death just to satisfy that conscience?