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“Oh yes.” Amalia ground her body against him and he rewarded her by circling the small nub just above his fingers with his thumb. Her eyes rolled back for a moment as she struggled to stay in control. “I hope you’re not offended by improper language, because if you keep doing that I’ll be screaming every four-letter word imaginable soon.” She gripped his hair tighter as he trailed his tongue down her bare stomach.
“What four-letter words could you possibly know?” He leaned back and smiled up at her. “I mean, I had a commanding officer who used all of them in single sentences—most profane man in the union army—but don’t they level obscenity charges at ladies who use that sort of language?” He planted kisses on each hip bone as she whimpered. “Not that it doesn’t get me all hot and bothered, but I’m curious.” He grinned up at her, but began to move his fingers again, making her mind turn to mush as she grasped for a response.
She panted as the need and yearning his fingers created tormented her senses so she almost couldn’t speak. “No one is under the delusion that I’m a lady.” Amalia gasped. “Nor that my family is genteel in the slightest.” She dipped her head back. He was going to be the death of her. “Besides, we all know I like to push things as much as you do.”
“Good to know.” With that David bent down and replaced his thumb with his tongue. She dug her hands into his shoulders and screamed his name as pleas
ure sparked through her entire core.
Amalia’s back arched as blinding stars lightened behind her eyes. She might have flown or spun or fallen or done a million things, but David held her tight, his tongue still working over her flesh, through the shudders, as her voice turned hoarse from repeating his name. As she grew limp, he pulled her closer, and steadied his chin in her lap.
She gazed down at him, her hands still tangled in his thick curls. “Where did you learn that?”
David settled himself closer. “First, I’m very skilled at finding interesting reading material. And second, there are only two topics men in the military talk about and I wasn’t that interested in weaponry.”
“A boon for me.” She panted a little and stroked his cheek, desire flaming anew, for him and only him and touching his body wasn’t going to be enough. She needed mint and hickory and sweat and David on her tongue. She shifted. “And now, would you like me to—”
A rousing knock at the door and a “David, Amalia, we need to come in” from Will took the wind from both their sails, so to speak.
“No,” they both shrieked. At least they got to do something in unison.
Chapter Sixteen
With clumsy, shaking hands David buttoned his shirt, working to ignore—and more—calm his throbbing...everything. The next few hours were not going to be pleasant. Amalia threw the silk back over her nude body. Disappointing. Very disappointing.
“Just a minute—” He raced to the door and clasped the knob so he could control when Will and Meg entered. David glanced back as Amalia buttoned her gown to her neck and slipped on the robe for good measure.
Such a waste. If he had his way... No, can’t permit his mind to go there. With all his remaining sense, he forced himself back under control. If ever there was a sign he shouldn’t engage in a particular course of action, this had to be it. Shoulders slumped, he turned the handle and let his friends into the room.
Will mopped his brow and gazed around, his eyes wild, the whites wide and gleaming. “Sorry, I hate to interrupt you, but I’ve been seeing shadows on my last patrol.”
David itched his ear. “Shadows?” Truly? Will had good instincts, but to interrupt for shadows?
“Human shadows. Several of them.” Will strolled over to the window, peeking through the curtain. David followed and stared into the blackness.
“Did you catch anyone?” He squinted further. Hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention. Was there something out there or was the warning just tickling his nerves?
“No.” Will didn’t move though.
“Then how do you know if they’re real?” Amalia joined them, her body right behind him, her chin almost on his shoulder. Magnolias and...well...her and...he tugged at his collar. Such a distraction...
“Meg saw them too when I went to fetch her from the kitchen and come here.” Will returned to the door and leaned against it, arms crossed.
Meg nodded, mouth grim. “There’s someone, several someones out there. Human, not ghosts or animals, circling the hotel. A maid confirmed. A nice one. Said she knew and liked you—something about teaching her and her sister fancy braids while you lived here. I’ve been told that the train depot attracted unsavoriness, especially considering the level of clientele here. There’s security, but I’m still nervous.”
“I remember those girls. I was bored and tired of always being on the edge of social circles so I befriended children. They don’t have the sense to call you ‘vapid.’” A faint smile appeared on Amalia’s lips. She rubbed the back of her head. “But, as for the rest, we are on the second floor...” She glanced back and forth between the two of them. Desire flared through him, but he quelled it once more. This was for her safety.
He hooked his thumbs in his waistband. “We need to leave.”
“Where? Where would we go? There’s no train until tomorrow morning. We’d be vulnerable at the train station and it’d be cold and wet and dewy by daylight. Everything would be ruined.” Amalia twisted a little as she ranted, her chest heaving. Annoyance flashed in her wide, mossy eyes, but... David frowned...fear flickered as well. She turned her back to him. To them.
“We’re vulnerable here too.” In two strides he was somehow across the room, his hand on her shoulder. “Someone is going to ambush us when we check out tomorrow morning.”
“Again, where are we going to go?” She didn’t turn around, but she didn’t brush him off either. David glanced over his shoulder at his partners, even as he held her a little closer.
“Don’t look at me.” Meg held up her palms and backed towards the door. “We’re just reporting.” Will inclined his head in the affirmative as Meg leaned against his chest.
David pressed his tongue into the back of his teeth. Where to go? Where to go? Who did they know in—oh. Oh. Amalia would not be happy. He gulped. Not exactly his ideal either, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. He touched his free hand to his lips. “I know where we’ll go.”
