Possession by Linda Mooney Page A

shower. And I bet my breath could knock an elephant to its knees.”
    “Mmm. Let me be the judge of that.”
    His mouth trapped hers, captured, and took it hostage. J surrendered, never wanting this almost perfect moment to end. Dimly she was aware of his body sitting beside hers, thigh to thigh. Slowly she could feel his hands moving up her back, parting the flimsy gown until they found her warm skin. Almost tentatively one hand began to move forward, gradually easing around her ribcage. He was going to touch her breast. There was no doubt in her mind. It was a touch she wouldn’t deny him or herself as her skin tingled with anticipation.
    As the rough palm cupped her, her breath caught in her throat, and Kiel released her lips to give her the chance to object.
    “If you don’t want—”
    “No,” she hurried to tell him. “Keep touching me. Keep…”
    There was fire in his touch. Fire that was shooting sparks though every nerve and muscle in her body. When his hand gently squeezed the full globe, a moan of pure want rumbled through her, surprising her with its intensity. Sparklers sizzled between her thighs.
    A thumb rubbed over the nipple, making her jerk in response. Kiel lifted his face from where he had buried it against her neck.
    “Does that hurt?” His voice was hoarse. He had moved his hand away slightly.
    J managed a weak smile. Taking his hand, she deliberately placed it back on her breast, letting him know she didn’t want him to stop whatever delicious torture he had in mind.
    Letting out a deep sigh, Kiel dove back into the sweetness of her skin.
    His thumb continued to play with her nipple until she could feel her womb clench. A surging wetness moistened her innermost core, and she trembled beneath the power of his touch. His hand moved, and he gently pinched the hard nub between thumb and forefinger.
    “Oh, God. Kiel.”
    Before the words were out of her mouth, he was gone. No, not gone, she’d discovered when she opened her eyes. Moved away, back to the other side of the room. She started to ask him what was wrong when the door to her room opened and at least three people entered.
    “Miss Laurent?” It was Dr. Anderson, mispronouncing her name again like most people did.
    J had ceased years ago correcting people, except when she felt it was absolutely necessary.
    “How are you feeling this morning?” he continued, as if he wasn’t aware of the raging forest fire spreading through her at that moment. Or if he could see it on her face and in the way her body was shivering, he chose to ignore it.
    “Fine, thanks.”
    “No dizziness? Do you still have a headache?” A cool hand checked the head wound underneath the bandage. She caught a whiff of sanitizer.
    “No. Nothing.”
    “It looks like you’ve suffered no permanent damage, so we’re letting you go home. But if you have another fainting spell, I’d seriously consider having an MRI done to see if it could be caused by a medical condition.”
    She nodded slightly. “I will, Doctor.”
    The man gave her a fatherly pat on the shoulder and left the room without further word. The nurses continued to mess around with the IV drip and whatnot. It was hard to tell, being unfamiliar with the room. Presently a third body came in, this time bearing a tray with her breakfast.
    “The doctor is signing the orders to let you leave. As soon as you’ve finished breakfast, you can go. Is there someone you’d like for us to call to come pick you up?”
    J recognized the nurse from late last night. Ferran? Ferguson? “Thank you, but my ride should be showing up any time now.”
    They puttered around some more. Realizing they weren’t going to be leaving anytime soon, J let her fingers roam over the tray, trying to decipher what was on it. Eggs, scrambled. A sausage link—no, two. Something that felt like hash browns. A container covered with a paper sleeve had oatmeal in it. The cup was coffee. A carton that contained—she sniffed its