Mists of the Serengeti(58)
We watched the phone for a few more moments after Jack hung up, but it didn’t ring again.
“You think?” I asked.
“I think.” Jack put the phone away. “He’s going to come through.”
WE SENSED THE rain before it came, in racing clouds that thrummed with charged energy. I was securing the poles at the base of the tent when it started falling, rolling over us in thick, warm sheets.
“Get inside,” Jack shouted over the rumbling of the sky. “I’ll finish off.”
“I got this one. You fix the other side.”
By the time we crawled into the tent, we were wet and soggy but exhilarated from racing against the storm.
“No, leave it open,” I said, as Jack went to zip the door shut. “I want to watch.” I leaned back on my elbows, trying to catch my breath.
We lay beneath the raining canvas, gazing through the tent flaps. In the distance, thorn trees stood in iron silhouette against the gray sky. Water mingled with the cindery soil, filling the air with the sweet, earthy fragrance of rain.
Jack grew still. Too still.
“Are you okay?” I asked. His hair was wetly draped over the bones of his chiseled face.
“It’ll take some time,” he replied, staring into the light. “I can’t shake off this feeling—of wanting to stand by Lily’s side, so she’s not alone out there, in the rain. I know it doesn’t make any sense, I know she’s gone, but a part of me still wants to protect her.”
A train whistled in the far distance, and somewhere on the water-washed plains, a solitary jackal whined at the flash of lightning.
“I’m sorry.” Jack blinked and tilted his head to look at me. “Sometimes I get so wrapped up in it, I don’t see the whole picture. At least I got Lily back. They never recovered your sister’s body. That had to be tough.”
“It was. It is.” I folded my arms around my knees and rested my chin there. “But then I think that maybe Mo would have wanted it that way. She never wanted to stay in one place. She felt boxed in. And now she’s . . . free. She would have laughed at my thwarted mission. First, that I crawled out of my comfort zone for her. And then at how wrong everything went, how I couldn’t get even one of her kids to Wanza. If there’s a lesson behind things, I wonder what I’m supposed to learn from it.”
“Maybe the lesson is not for you but for me. So you can teach me that it’s okay to sit in the rain without Lily, and not feel like dying.”
He leaned in and something wild swirled in the pit of my stomach. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was a lesson—a fierce, burning imprint, so that my lips would always know the difference between being wanted and being craved. The world washed away in a blurry, wet painting. All that was left was Jack’s hot breath, the firmness of his lips, the way his drenched clothes clung to his body. When he pulled back, he was breathing hard, like he’d run a long, long way.
“Stop running, Jack.” I took his beautiful face in my hands as lightning flashed in the distance. “Stop running away from us. I want you. I’m not asking you for forever. Yes, it’s what I wanted—it’s what I was waiting for. But then I took a trip. And I realized I’d been living in a delicate, made-up world. No, not living. Hibernating. Crossing off the days, one after the other. So what I want—what I really want, is this one rainy afternoon. I want to go back home drunk and intoxicated, filled with ecstasy and white heat. So love me tenderly, Jack. Or love me recklessly. I don’t care which. But do it now. You never know if we’ll be passing this way again.” His expression was so galvanizing, my heart fluttered wildly in my chest. “Your words. Remember?”
“I was talking about a trip to the crater, not—”
“Not this?” I tossed off my wet top in a passionate challenge.
My invitation pushed him over the edge. Something intense flared through him—instant, electric, as if I had just unleashed him.
Shit. I’m in for it now. My pulse pounded with a dizzy cocktail of desire, rimmed in gritty bits of trepidation. He gazed at me intently, cranking up the anticipation until it was almost unbearable.
“Take it off,” he said, his command thick with longing.
My fingers faltered as I slid off one strap, and then the other. He didn’t wait for me to unclasp my bra. He was done waiting. His tongue flicked my nipple through the wet fabric before he latched on, sucking it into his mouth, rasping the edges with his teeth.
“Ohhh.” My breath escaped as he brought my untried senses to life, pulling down the lace on the other cup and flicking the puckered peak with his thumb.
He lifted me into his lap, straddling my legs on either side of him. He was hard, and he wanted me to know it. “Last chance, sweetness. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. So if you’re having second thoughts, now’s the time, because in a little while I’m going to take you, gently at first, and then to all kinds of dark, delicious places.”
His breath left hot, phantom kisses between my breasts, his words making me squirm. His husky bedroom voice sent delightful shudders through me. My insides jangled with excitement. Without breaking the intense gaze we were locked in, I tugged at the hem of his T-shirt. He lifted his arms and let me peel it off. His skin was slick with rainwater, but the heat coming off his body was palpable. Our breaths came in unison as we paused at the edge, that exquisite swell of silence between the crack of lightning and the roar of thunder.