"Clothes. Off. Now."
She raised an eyebrow at him, even though it was exactly what she wanted too. "Used to giving orders, Dr. Randall?"
"You're mine, my creation. You're supposed to do what I want."
"You'll find I'm a little bit more difficult to manage than that." She grabbed at his belt buckle and undid it. "Maybe I want your clothes off, instead."
His eyes sparkled with what she hoped was amusement. "Fine. That will work too. God knows I want your hands on me, woman."
Finally undoing his belt, she pulled his shirt free and he helped lift it over his head. Jason's physique was extraordinary. Long, muscular arms sat next to a well-defined chest and flat abs the likes of which most movie stars would be envious. Outsiders were by nature athletic, but clearly Jason took care of himself in addition to his natural propensity towards being physically fit.
She ran her hands all over the thick, blond hair covering his chest. Yes, she thought all of a sudden, this was what a man was supposed to look like.
A devilish thought crossed her mind. "Are you a boxers or briefs man?"
"I know the answer to that, obviously. So why are you asking that question?"
She rolled her eyes. "This is real, Jason." Leaning forward, she blew on his neck before kissing him there. She craved the taste of his skin. "You can't over think this. You can't make it something it's not just because you want it to be. I'm real. You're real. This thing between us is real and destined since before we were born." She sighed, loving the way he smelled. So fresh. So natural. So masculine. "You're not alone. You've always had me, even when you didn't know it."
His eyes narrowed as he pulled her closer for another kiss. Then there was only Jason. The heat of his body and the feel of his heartbeat under her caress. She tugged at his pants, pulling them to reveal, yes, what she would have guessed, Jason was a boxer man.
One tug and they were gone too.
"Now I'm going to have to insist that you get naked too."
She laughed. "All right." Her hands shook slightly as she removed her shirt. She'd never been exposed… not this way… to anyone before. A million insecurities travelled through her mind. What if he didn't think she was as beautiful as she thought he was? What if he was used to women with bigger breasts and longer legs who knew exactly what they were doing?
He touched her bra. "I hate these things."
"Bras?"
"I can open and close the human body with a scalpel, but I can't work that thing to save my life."
She looked down. "It's not that complicated. There's this little hook…"
"I get the mechanics. I just find what's underneath it to be so distracting." He exhaled on a laugh. "In your case, very, very distracting."
"So you're a breast man, then?" Sure, she could be light about this. She could be easy going. She didn't have to make it such a huge deal, especially since he seemed so okay about the whole thing. Right?
"On you, I'm a breast man. Could you…?"
"Oh." She laughed. "Sure." Pulling the bra off, she discarded it to the side. She was now totally topless in front of Jason, and he still hadn't said anything about what she looked like.
"Now the pants too."
He was really into this ordering her around thing. "Um…"
Grabbing her chin, he picked up her head until she looked at him. "Charma, you're so beautiful. I can barely breathe."
She blushed. She didn't have to be able to look into a mirror to know it; she could feel the heat spread across her cheeks. Reaching down, he helped her pull off her pants.
"Your underwear and bra don't match."
Laughing, she gave him a look that she hoped said she thought he was nuts. "I didn't know I was going to be doing this with you today. If I did, I would have dressed for the occasion."
"I think it's really cute."
Pushing himself against her, she instinctively ground her hips into his. God, the pressure that little bit of contact between them created caused her insides to melt. Heat pooled between her thighs. Sighing, she wished she could bottle this sensation. Never in her life could she have imagined it would feel this good.
Jason kissed her until she could hardly breathe. He could do amazing things with his mouth. In and out he plunged with his tongue leaving her wondering what he could do with other parts of his body. She ran her hands up and down his arms.
Unable to resist any more, she reached down to cup him. He groaned, and she loved the sound. She'd made him do that. He was feeling this good because of what they were doing together. Whatever the circumstances, they'd found each other. They were together as the universe had meant them to be.
He moved his fingers down and she felt him inside of her. Gasping, she closed her eyes on the sensation as his fingers found her most sensitive spot. As if he'd been doing it for years, he seemed to know just where to touch her, what would make her gasp, what would make her shudder.
Finding a spot even she herself hadn't known existed, he pressed down with his surgeon's fingers until she quivered and screamed his name. Still held within the protective embrace of his arms, she saw colors in front of her eyes. Yes, she thought vaguely, this is heaven. This is what I've needed my whole life, this kind of intimacy with this man.
As she slowly returned to earth, she became aware of Jason positioning himself on top of her. With one hard plunge, he entered her body. She screamed for a second with the shock of the penetration.
His eyes got huge as he stared down at her, remorse evident in his gaze. "You've never done this before?"
She shook her head as the pleasure of his filling her overwhelmed the uncomfortable sensation of his penetration. "I only wanted to do it with my soul mate. No one else would ever do."
He closed his eyes as if her words caused him pain. Reaching up, she stroked his cheek gently before she spoke. "What's wrong?"
"The things you say, I wish I could believe them."
"Believe them." Gods, please let him believe.
He kissed her as he gently moved in and out of her. She could tell he was taking the time to be careful. Opening his lids, his eyes stared at her with an emotion she couldn't identify. She had the feeling that if she lived a million years she'd never know all the secrets that Jason held within his heart.
Thrust for thrust, she started to move beneath him. Setting her hips to meet his thrust, she heard his intake of breath. "Charma, if you do that, I won't be able to maintain control. I might hurt you again."
Moving her hips again, she smiled at him. "Do I look like I'm hurting?"
"No, but…"
"So, stop treating me like I'm going to break. I want this with you—all of you—not a watered down version."
As if her words alone compelled him, his pace became frantic. Thrust to thrust, they met each other in passion. Charma threw her head back trying to take in all the sensations that flowed through her body. Bright colors danced in front of her eyes. She gasped. Her muscles contracted, grabbing his large cock, milking him, begging for more.
"God, Charma, it's so good."
The husky sound of his voice pushed her over the edge and for the first time in her life Charma knew pleasure. She screamed his name, the pleasure Jason gave her brought tears to her eyes.
Moments later, Jason followed her, pressing his lips to hers. She loved the feel of his heavier weight on top of her. Yes, this was what she needed.
They lay in companionable silence. She ran her hands up and down his back, tracing his well-defined muscles.
Jason sighed, and rolled off her. Lying next to her, he finally spoke. "Well, I certainly know how to make up one hell of a fantasy."
All of the good feeling Charma had stored up flew from her body. No, he hadn't just said that. She had to have misheard. It wasn't possible.
Not sure her voice would work, she spoke the words knowing they would only bring her pain but still needing to hear the words aloud. "You still think I'm make-believe?"
"What else could you be?
In real life, it's just never that good." He sighed and closed his eyes, covering his forehead with his arm. "Life is more disappointing than this."
Charma wanted to die. She'd just shared her heart and her body with a man who still thought she was a figment of his imagination. Rolling over, she searched frantically for her clothes. Unable to protect herself from the hell that was happening inside of her, she could at least protect herself physically from his sight. Was he examining her body like he might a painting he had drawn, wishing he could figure out how to alter it?
Her cheeks heated and tears threatened to spill from her eyes. No, she would not lose it. Not until she was away from him. She would save herself that much pride.
First priority had to be getting them out of their prison before the nightmare that was their captor returned for more fun and games. Closing her eyes, she reached for Marina, hoping the other woman's powers would be strong enough to feel her even in here.
Like a lighthouse beacon, Charma felt the other woman's presence in her mind. Even with Jason here she'd never felt so alone, but now she could feel her family and she knew they wouldn't leave her here to be destroyed.
A rough finger brushed one of the tears off her cheek. She gasped and jumped back but found herself caught in Jason's embrace instead. "Don't cry." He looked down at her face, his blue eyes imploring her for understanding. It was the one thing she wasn't sure she could give him. "If I believed you, then what I just said to you, what I did all those years ago, I could see how it all could add up to hurt you so badly."
Whatever else he was, he never said what she anticipated. "I don't think that was a real apology. That was more like 'I'm sorry you're so upset', but I appreciate you not wanting me to cry. My display actually had nothing to do with you." Liar. She wiped at her tears. "I've managed to make contact with my family."
"Through that telepathy thing you do?"
Nodding, she bit her lower lip. "That's right."
"So they'll be coming to pull us out of here, and all of my doubts and cynicism will be proven wrong?"
"Jason," she ran her hands up and down his arms, admiring the feel of his hard muscles. "I don't believe anything could ever clear away all of your doubts and cynicism. Not even communicating with the moon."
"What do you mean?"
A warm white light surrounded them. Charma shivered at the sensation.
Jason looked left then right, staring at the brightness. "What's going on?"
"Marina."
Tornado strength winds lifted them off the ground, Charma suddenly felt like the star of a children's musical. Should she break out in song? Jason held her tightly. She opened her mouth to explain what was happening when they were both rocketed through the sky.
With a thump, she returned to her body where she lay on the floor of Jason's hospital room. Jumping to her feet, she whirled around to assess the situation. Jason was in the bed, his eyes starting to open. Marina stood to her left, a worried expression on her features, and her hands on her hips.
"What the hell is going on? I couldn't find you anywhere. Your body was here but you were not."
Charma nodded as she watched Jason sit up in bed. He rubbed his eyes and cleared his throat. It sounded scratchy.
"Marina, this is Dr. Jason Randall." She swallowed, feeling dead inside. "He doesn't believe any of this is real."
Jason cleared his throat again, and Charma walked to the small refrigerator in the corner of the room. Bending down, she picked up a bottle of water. Crossing back to him, she opened it and poured a small amount into his mouth.
"Thank you." Jason looked around the room one more time. "Charma…"
Whatever he was going to say, she didn't want to hear it. "Marina, give Jason your pendant for protection, please."
"Ah… okay." Marina pulled the necklace off and placed it on Jason's neck. Charma had a twinge of sadness as she thought of all the healing and protection jewelry she had at home. She might have been able to share with him if circumstances were different.
Marina's pendant was the sun and the moon connected side by side, each with a face. The sun looked up and the moon looked downwards. It was made of sterling silver. "If the timing were different, Jason, I could explain to you how this works and why it will keep you safe—at least moderately—from the demon. But I'm going to suggest that at least you get out of here and go into hiding."
"Charma." Jason's eyes had taken on the hard glint that said he was getting mad. At the moment, she was numb.
"What's going on here?" Marina looked back and forth between them.
Charma turned, heading for the door. "We're going to have to find Leonardo and find a way to make the prophecy read that we only need seventeen out of the eighteen Outsiders because he's not going to be any use to us. I am done here."
Pushing on the door hard, she felt a satisfaction as it swung outwards and banged the wall. If Jason wanted to be human, he could be. She'd mourned him for eighteen years, and she was through doing so.
Chapter Eight
Jason swung his legs over the bed to catch Charma before she left and was shocked when he collapsed to the floor. Damn. How long had it been since he walked? Shaking his head, he used his upper body strength to pull himself into a standing position.
"Charma, wait." It suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe. It was as if he let her go his entire world would stop spinning, gravity would lose its hold on him and he'd float out into space. He couldn't let the situation stand, not if she was real, and it was certainly looking increasingly like that was true.
Charma, and her friend, Marina, turned the corner and he lost sight of them. Letting go of his grip on the hospital bed, he stumbled more than walked to the door of the room. It felt like he dragged his feet behind him. Damn. He was going to need a lot of physical therapy to get through this. Maybe even an operation or six.
He pushed open the door, pulling it behind him when he got into the hall. Charma and Marina had rounded the corner and were headed towards the elevators.
"Charma wait." Two nurses looked up at the sound of his voice. One of them gasped and the other rushed in his direction. "Somebody stop those women, please." He wasn't a man accustomed to needing help. So far this day had been degrading to say the least.
Two hands grasped him under his arms and Jason realized an orderly had joined the attempt to keep him upright. The man was twice his size and Jason had to restrain himself from shoving him off. "Don't worry about me. Stop those women."
His fists clenched at his sides. These people were going to hear about how they ignored him. He would make sure of that.
"Dr. Randall, please." The redheaded nurse who held him, and was at that very moment trying to drag him back into the room, had a Boston accent. He'd been alone with his own voice, Charma's, and the possible demons for so long it actually jarred him for a moment to hear the foreign sound.
"Those women." Now he shouted and pointed. If they were going to treat him like a child, he could behave like one.
A ding indicated the elevator had arrived. She stopped walking and turned back to him. "Don't blame them, Jason. They can't see us. Thanks to Marina's powers, you know the ones you don't think are real." She turned on her heel and walked into the elevator.
"Charma." He knew it was futile but he had to call after her one more time. As he watched the doors close, he forced his breathing to even out. He would find them again. None of this was over. He would make her understand and fix what had happened.
Evidently, they had a destiny to complete. A smile crossed his lips. He would look forward to the benefits of this soul mate business he'd just found out he had. If Charma thought she was leaving him, she had another think coming altogether.
* * * *
Hours later, Jason felt more sedate. In fact, he wasn't sure how much time had exactly passed. There had been a frenzy of doctors and nurses running around, testing him, and poking him. He was no longer sure exactly what had happened. He had reclaimed the use of his
limbs and could walk around the room. He suspected he could do pushups if they asked him to. In his life he'd never felt stronger.
The tear-filled reunion with his parents had been a little harder to take. He didn't express strong emotions very well. Or at least that's what his last girlfriend had told him. Jason hadn't really felt anything at all towards her, but he hadn't wanted to have a fight so he'd agreed then ended their relationship cordially.
Knowing it was only a matter of time until his father had to excuse himself to handle some sort of arrangement, Jason stared at his mother across the room. The last few months, while he was comatose had been rough on her. Her usual perfectly put together outfit looked slightly wrinkled, and for the first time ever he could see grey roots on the top of her dark brown hair.
Squinting, he ignored his own internal dialogue that asked him why he had never questioned where his blond hair and blue eyes had come from when his parents were both so dark. Once he was old enough to understand such things, he'd assumed it was recessive genes. Charma would scoff at him.
Charma. He sent the word out into the universe wondering if she'd respond. Nothing returned. Sighing, he ran his hands through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. The possibility existed that he was still crazy. No one had been able to see Charma and Marina.
Wasn't that convenient?
Or brilliant.
How else would they have gotten in and out of the hospital completely undetected?
Jason cleared his throat. It was time to get some answers, even if he didn't like what those answers were. If it turned out he was delusional then he would simply accept that he had to remain hospitalized until he got it under control.
"Mom?"
His mother rose. No more than five feet tall, Sharon had always been a huge presence in his life. The third wife to his father, the maids had joked that the man wouldn't dare to leave her. For such a tiny person, she scared the hell out of most people. It was her upbringing. Socialite family didn't begin to cover the description of his mother's side of the family. If his father had a lot of buildings named after him, his mother's family had cities in small countries bearing their name.