| Subject: Heat Wave 4 |
Author:
'me
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Date Posted: 10:18:49 01/05/02 Sat
In reply to:
'chelle
's message, "Heat Wave" on 10:01:34 01/05/02 Sat
Chapter Four
Michael tried not to watch as each section of pale smooth skin was revealed. He tried not to let show how much he despised the angry red marks that were all ready beginning to show on her. He refused to think about the ugly bruises they would turn into. While running up the stairs toward her, he had heard the sounds of her being beaten; it had taken him back to the mission in the female prison. How he had felt so helpless, knowing there was nothing he could do to save her, having to standby and hear the horrible sounds of her suffering. Then, later, hearing her call out for him in her sleep, and still being able to do nothing. It had been hell in its purest form. Shaking the thoughts away, he concentrated on the woman before him.
Nikita let the sides of her blouse fall open and kicked off her remaining shoe. She leaned back against the pillows Michael had placed there for her comfort. She looked over toward him, feeling gentle blue met furious green. Nikita started at the fierce look on his face. "Michael?"
His concentration broken, he forced his features into a calmer mask, and raised a shaking hand to touch a red mark on her chest.
Her breath caught as he rubbed his finger gently across her skin. "Michael" she breathed his name as a prayer.
"It should not have gone this far." He murmured, more for his benefit than hers she suspected. "I'm sorry."
"No Michael, don't apologize. This was as much my fault than anyone's. I should have paid closer attention to what was happening. I had a bad feeling about it and I should have."
He placed his hand over her mouth to still her. He tried to relay to her with his gaze that making amends at this point would help him. She fell silent, urging him to continue.
The fingers of his right hand continued to softly touch the red mark on her chest, while his other hand moved from her mouth to cup the back of her head, his fingers sliding through her silky blond tresses. He maneuvered himself between her legs, on one knee, and moved in closer, bringing his head down to softly kiss the mark he had just tenderly traced. His mouth touching and tasting her skin, soothing away the violence and leaving only the memory of his soft touch. Concentrating on the skin above her breasts, he nibbled and worshipped her, immersing himself in her scent. With his hand, he gently raked his fingernails down her arm, causing goose bumps and shivers to richoet through Nikita.
"Michael… Michael…" she murmured. She was hesitant to move, for fear he would stop his sensual assault on her body. He moved in closer, pressing his knee into the aching center of her need. She let out a low moan and tilted her head back, exposing the tanned flesh of her neck.
The sound of a wailing police siren washed over them both like a dose of ice-cold water. They broke apart and stared at each other, thier breathing fast and harsh. They sat there, facing one another, disbelief and lust still evident in their stance and their faces.
"I've.. I'll be ..." Nikita stumbled to her feet and walked unsteadily to the bathroom.
Michael watched her go, admiring the way she moved, watching the way the material of her skirt caressed her hips. He was a man with a weakness, and he knew there was nothing he could, or would ever do about it.
~~
Nikita splashed cold water on her face and neck. "Damn" there was just something about how that man made her feel. She couldn't get him out of her mind, out of her heart. And she didn't ever want to, that was for sure. Being locked in the building for who knows how long. Having nothing to occupy their time, but each other. It was going to be a long day.
She leaned closer to the mirror touching her forehead to the cool glass and smiled.
Thank god.
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