Again the Magic (Wallflowers 0.5)(35)

“Tell me to go,” McKenna muttered, appearing to want her to struggle, almost willing her to. Her lack of opposition seemed to inflame him. The hot waft of his breath struck her lips, and she felt her body tightening inside. “Tell me,” he urged, as his head bent over hers.

And the memories of who and what they had been, of past kisses, of agonizing longing, were consumed in a roar of desire. There was only now, her moan trapped in McKenna’s hot mouth, the kiss beginning as a near-assault, transforming swiftly to a kind of greedy, ecstatic worship. His tongue plunged inside her, strong and sure, and she cried out at the pleasure of it, the sound smothered by his lips. McKenna had taught her how to kiss, and he still remembered all the tricks that aroused her. He paused to toy with her, using his lips, teeth, tongue, then settled back in, delving into her mouth with gloriously aggressive kisses. His hand slid from her nape to the bottom of her spine, bringing her more tightly against him. Arching in response, Aline whimpered as his palm reached the swell of her bu**ocks and urged her into his loins. Even with the thickness of her skirts between them, she could feel the hard ridge of his arousal.

The pleasure intensified to an almost frightening pitch. Too much, too strong, too fast…

Suddenly McKenna made a rough sound and jerked away from her.

Staring at him, Aline leaned back against the wall, her legs threatening to collapse beneath her. They both breathed with deep, wracking pulls of their lungs, while frustrated passion saturated the air like steam.

Finally McKenna managed to speak. “Go back to the house,” he said hoarsely, “while I can still let you. And think about what I told you.”

It took several minutes for Aline to compose herself sufficiently to return to the ball. She thought she had managed to paste a facade of deceptive poise over her inner tumult—no one seemed to notice that anything was amiss as she greeted guests and conversed and laughed with artificial cheer. Only Marcus, who gave her a narrowed, meditative stare from halfway across the ballroom, made her aware that narrow strips of heat were glowing at the crests of her cheeks. And Adam, of course, who appeared at her left elbow and gazed into her upturned face with discreet concern.

“Do I look all right?” she whispered to him.

“Aside from being your usual ravishingly beautiful self,” Adam said, “you are a bit flushed. What happened between the two of you? Did you exchange words?”

Far more than words, she thought ruefully. That kiss…the annihilating pleasure like nothing she had ever felt before. Years of longing and fantasy distilled into pure physical sensation. It seemed impossible to layer detachment over the seething desire, to stand while her knees showed a dismaying inclination to fold. Impossible to pretend everything was as it should be…when nothing was.

That kiss, charged with their mutual hunger to discover the changes that had been wrought over a dozen years of living apart. McKenna presented a danger to Aline in every way, and yet she was somehow certain that she was going to make the wrong choices, take insane risks, all in the futile attempt to appease her need for him.

“Adam,” she murmured without looking at him, “have you ever wanted something so much that you would do anything to have it—even knowing that it was bad for you?”

They walked slowly, taking a slow turn around the outskirts of the ballroom. “Of course,” Adam replied. “All the truly enjoyable things in life are invariably bad for you—and they’re even better when done to excess.”

“You are not being helpful,” Aline said severely, struggling to hold back a sudden smile.

“Would you like for someone to give me permission to do what you’ve already decided to do? Would that help to pacify your guilty conscience?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. But no one can do that for me.”

“I can.”

She laughed suddenly. “Adam…”

“I hereby give you permission to do as you please. Now do you feel better?”

“No, just frightened. And as my friend, you should be doing your utmost to prevent me from making a mistake that will result in a great deal of pain.”

“You’ve already had the pain,” he pointed out. “Now you may as well have the pleasure of making the mistake.”

“My God,” Aline whispered, squeezing his arm tightly, “you are such a terrible influence, Adam.”

“I try,” he murmured, smiling down at her.

Gideon wandered to the terraced gardens behind the estate manor, following a flagstone path that curved around a row of artfully shaped yews. He had hoped that the outside air would distract him from temptation. The night was still young, and he had to slow the pace of his drinking a bit. Later, when the guests disbanded for the night, he could allow his thirst free rein, and he would pickle himself properly. Unfortunately, he still had to endure a few hours of relative sobriety until then.

A few strategically lit garden torches provided enough light to accommodate an evening stroll. In his aimless wandering, Gideon came to a small paved clearing with a splashing fountain embedded in the middle. To his surprise, he saw a girl moving about in the clearing. She seemed to be enjoying the distant music that floated from the open windows of the ballroom. Humming gently, she glided in a dreamy approximation of a waltz, pausing occasionally to sip from a glass of wine. Catching a glimpse of her profile, Gideon saw that she was not a girl but a young woman with pretty, if unremarkable features.