"We're heading into town to pick up more beer and stuff. Want to come with?"

Sam glanced up from the book she'd been pretending to read and smiled at Jo as she dropped beside her on the blanket she'd laid out in the sun. "No thanks. I'm enjoying this book."

Jo snorted. "Sure you are. And here I thought you were watching the cottage next door for a sign of Mortimer."

Sam flushed guiltily, but didn't deny it. She had indeed been watching the cottage next door. She'd hardly seen Mortimer in the three days since they'd returned. Once back, his time had been taken up by his friends. He went out with them as soon as it was dark, didn't return until dawn, and then slept until at least noon, appearing in the early afternoon to spend a little time with her until Bricker and Decker got up. Then he'd apologize, explain he had to work, and disappear with the men again.

Sam supposed they'd rented a place in town to practice their new songs or something before they had to tour. She couldn't be sure, however, because Mortimer was being pretty closemouthed about it. Sam would have given up on him by now but for the fact that he was obviously cutting his sleep short to be with her. He hadn't gotten more than five or six hours a night since returning from Minden.

Unfortunately, none of that time had been spent alone. Alex and Jo were always around, cajoling them into trips here and there or simply hanging out with them, so that all she and Mortimer had managed in the way of intimacy were a few stolen kisses.

"Don't let her tease you," Alex said, dropping onto the blanket on her other side. "It's come to our attention that Mortimer only seems to be able to get away from his friends in the afternoon, so we decided to cut you a break and leave the two of you alone today."

"Really?" Sam asked with pleased surprise.

"Really," Alex drawled. "But I hope we don't regret it. If he breaks your heart I'm going to hog-tie him and roast him over a spit."

"He won't break my heart," Sam said quickly.

"Honey, you're already half in love with that man," Alex said dryly. "The only way he won't break your heart is if this ends with the two of you walking down the aisle."

"I'm not half in love-" Sam began indignantly, but paused, unable to finish the lie. The truth was, she feared she might very well be half in love with Garrett Mortimer. She was certainly in lust with him. Sam also found herself jonesing for his presence when he wasn't around and wishing she could spend every minute with him. She thought about him constantly, even while sleeping. The dreams she'd had since returning to Magnetawan were full of him, and usually very, very hot. Was that love?

"I think Sam's right," Jo said suddenly. "She's not half in love, she's fully there. And she's got it bad."

Sam flushed and gave her younger sister a push. "Stop harassing me and go if you're going."

"Oh, we're going," Alex assured her, getting to her feet even as Jo did. "And we're not coming back until dark. That's usually when our friendly neighborhood vampires head out."

"Vampires?" Sam asked.

"They sleep all day and stay out all night. What else could they be?" Alex teased.

Knowing Alex was just saying that to bug her because of her phobia about bats and such, Sam simply shook her head and said, "Have fun."

"You too," Jo called with a grin as they moved to Alex's Matrix.

Sam watched them go, glanced toward the lifeless cottage next door, and then turned her eyes back to the book in her hand before closing it and setting it down. She was just debating whether to go inside and get herself something to drink when the snap of a branch drew her gaze to the path, and she saw Bricker moving across the yard toward her.

"Hi," he said as he reached the edge of her blanket.

"Hi," she responded, raising a hand to shade her eyes as she peered up at him.

"Decker and I are sneaking off to work on our own,", he announced.

"Sneaking?" she asked.

Bricker nodded. "If we don't sneak out while he's sleeping, Mortimer will insist he has to come with us."

When she arched an eyebrow, he grimaced and explained, "Mortimer has this whole responsibility-issue thing."

"He does, does he?" she asked with a laugh.

"Yeah, and normally that's a good thing, but..." Bricker shrugged. "He's got more important things to do here."

"Does he?" she asked curiously.

"Yes, he does," Bricker assured her. "Much more important, lifelong-type things."

Sam was puzzling over that when he said, "So we're sneaking off, but I thought I'd best come let you know so you can tell him when he gets up."

"I see," she murmured, and then tilted her head and asked, "Don't you need him with you to work?"

"Nah." Bricker waved that away. "Decker and I can handle this."

"But he's the lead singer," she pointed out. "How can you practice without him there?"

"Oh yeah," he muttered, and then shrugged. "He knows all his lines. It's just Decker and I who need to practice."

"Oh," Sam said uncertainly.

"Anyway, you're welcome to go inside the cottage and wait for him if you like," he suggested, and when her eyebrows rose, he added, "Decker said so. You could even sneak down to Mortimer's room and wake him with the good news that he has the evening off if you like." He grinned and then added helpfully, "His room is the one farthest from the stairs."

Sam pursed her lips as she considered him, and then shook her head and said. "It's funny."

Bricker paused, his head tilting. "What is?"

"You don't look like I imagined," Sam said, and then teased, "For some reason I always assumed Cupid would be taller."

Bricker laughed, but merely turned and headed back along the path through the trees. Decker came out as he reached the other cottage, and the two men immediately moved to the vehicles in front of the cottage. Much to her surprise, Bricker got in the SUV and Decker in his pickup. While she sat wondering why they were taking both vehicles to get to the same place, the trucks growled to life and started up the driveway.

Sam waited until they had disappeared from view before getting up. Her movements then were slow and almost reluctant as she gathered her book, drink, and blanket and headed into the cottage. She put her things away, brushed her hair, and then briefly toyed with the idea of changing her clothes, or even showering, but then gave her head a shake. She'd showered when she'd gotten up that morning, her clothes were fine, and she was just stalling about going next door because she suddenly found herself feeling nervous.

Shaking her head, Sam made herself turn and march out of the cottage and straight across the yard to Decker's cottage. She automatically stopped at the door, her hand rising to knock, but then caught herself before her knuckles actually rapped wood. Muttering under her breath, she opened the screen door and slid inside. She was standing just inside the door, trying to decide if she had the nerve to go downstairs and wake Mortimer up in his bed, when he suddenly appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

"Sam!" he exclaimed, freezing when he saw her. He crumpled something that looked like a plastic bag with a reddish tinge in his hand, and then continued up the stairs asking, "What are you doing here?"

"Bricker said it would be okay if I came over and waited for you to get up," she said awkwardly as he reached the top of the stairs and slid past her into the kitchen.

"He did, did he?" Mortimer moved to drop the bag she'd glimpsed in the garbage bin, and then turned back to ask. "Where is Bricker?"

"He and Decker left to go to work. He asked me to tell you that too, and that you have the day off."

"They've left?" he asked with amazement. "This early in the day?"

Sam wasn't surprised at the frown that flickered over his face. The other two men usually didn't stir until the sun was out of sight and the waning light of day was all that remained. "Bricker said if they didn't go while you were sleeping, you'd insist on going with them and that you had more important lifelong-type things to do here, so they decided to sneak off."

The frown on Mortimer's face eased and he smiled wryly. "He was right."

"What is it you have to do that's so important?" she asked curiously.

Mortimer's eyes focused on her, his expression becoming solemn, but instead of answering, he asked, "Where are your sisters?"

"They went to town. They said they wouldn't be back until dark," she added, managing not to blush as she recalled what else they'd said.

The rest of the tension remaining in his body slid out of Mortimer at this news. "That was very accommodating of them. Did Decker and Bricker talk to them first?"

"What?" she asked with surprise. "No. At least I don't think so."

"Hmm." Mortimer shrugged the concern away and slid one hand around her waist, drawing her nearer. "You're a nice sight to wake up to."

"Thank you," she whispered as he caught her chin with one finger and lifted her face so that he could press a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Is there anything you wanted to do today?" he asked softly, trailing kisses along her jawline toward her ear.

"No," Sam breathed as he nibbled at her lobe.

"There's something I'd like to do," he growled, sliding his arms around her and drawing her closer as his mouth moved back to her lips.

Sam sighed, her lips opening for his onslaught as he kissed her. She let her arms creep up around his neck then, but found her eyes blinking open and moving nervously to the door, half expecting the men to return, or someone else to suddenly knock at the door. Their track record to date was enough to make anyone leery.

Seeming to notice her distraction, Mortimer pulled back and said quietly, "I think my room has a lock on it."

Sam swallowed, but whispered, "Perhaps we could go there, then."

A small, relieved smile curving his lips, Mortimer caught her hand in his and drew her toward the stairs he'd just ascended.

Sam allowed him to tug her down the steps and across the rec room to a door that presumably led to his room. She peered around curiously as he ushered her inside, noting the pale tan colors on the wall and the dark blue bedspread... on the bed.

"There."

Glancing toward the door, she saw Mortimer straighten from locking it. Turning with a satisfied grin, he announced, "Safe and sound."

Sam managed a smile. "Good," she murmured, her eyes drawn to his. She found herself unable to look away as she noted they seemed more silver than green. She'd noticed it before, mostly at night. They wore sunglasses a lot during the day, so it was really only at night or the early evening that Sam saw his eyes, and she'd put down that odd silver glow to the poor lighting at the time, but the light in this room was just fine. Artificial, but fine, she thought, and then cast a distracted glance down as he took her hand in his.

"I want you." The words were a sexy growl as he drew her closer, and Sam forgot about his silver eyes as warmth radiated from his body, and then his body itself pressed against her. Every nerve and fiber in her being immediately seemed to come alive inside Sam so that a frisson of excitement and awareness was suddenly vibrating through her from head to toe. She instinctively lifted her face to his, her eyes closing as her lips broke open, allowing a small sigh to slip through as his mouth covered hers. But this first caress was just a light brushing of his lips over hers, a sweet caress rather than the mad passion of some of their previous kisses.

"I want to take this slow," he whispered, his mouth moving across her cheek to her ear. "I want to savor it."

"Oh," Sam breathed, tilting her head as he found her earlobe again. She felt his hands slip under her T-shirt and brush lightly across her lower stomach, and bit her lip as her stomach muscles jumped excitedly under the caress. Then his hands were easing her top up, revealing her belly button, her midriff, her breasts. Mortimer lifted the shirt up over her head and dropped it to the floor. Despite having had her breasts bared, and even being fully naked in front of him before, Sam had to work hard to keep from raising her hands to cover herself as his eyes traveled lazily over her.

"I find you beautiful," he whispered, soothing her soul and washing away her discomfort. "Perfect."

And then he kissed her again; this time his tongue dipped out for a lazy sashay around her mouth before retracting again so that his mouth could move to the side of her chin, where he nipped lightly at her jawbone.

"I want to see all of you."

Sam swallowed, but didn't protest when his hands moved to her waist to work the button there and then the zipper. Her shorts dropped to pool around her ankles. She found herself standing in just her panties and not sure she liked it, despite the way his eyes glowed and his mouth curved in appreciation.

She stopped worrying about that and gasped in surprise, however, when he suddenly dropped to his haunches. Sam took a small step back and felt her behind bump against the dresser. She peered down with confusion, unsure what he was doing until Mortimer urged her to lift first one foot and then the other so that he could move her shorts out of the way. He didn't straighten again then as she'd expected, but shifted to his knees and reached for her hips as he pressed a kiss to her stomach.

Sam licked her lips and then did a little shimmy against the dresser. She giggled as his tongue briefly dipped teasingly into her belly button, but it died on a gasp as his tongue then traveled down to the waistband of her white lace bikini panties.

"Pretty," he whispered appreciatively against her skin, and she felt herself blush. Lingerie was her one great weakness. She had to look professional and businesslike at work, but her lace bras and panties were her little rebellion underneath, her own private secret.

Her thoughts evaporated under a wave of surprise and pleasure as Mortimer's tongue slid along the line of lace. She sucked in an expectant breath as his fingers curled over the lace-covered elastic and began to draw it down over her hips. The panties dropped to pool at her ankles. This time he didn't pause to look, but immediately moved his hand to one foot and then the other so that she stepped out of the delicate lace. Mortimer tossed the item onto the small pile of her clothes, and only then turned to admire her.

Now Sam was really having to struggle not to cover herself. Then his hand ran lightly up the back of her calf in a soft caress that was almost soothing... and he bent his head to press a kiss to the inside of her knee, allowing his tongue to slip out and lick at her warm flesh.

Sam inhaled on a gasp and reached for the dresser behind her to help stay upright as she felt her legs tremble, and then clutched the edge of the dresser tighter still as his mouth began to follow a lazy trail up the inside of her thigh. She was panting when he stopped and turned to kiss the inside of her other knee, urging her legs a little farther apart. He then licked his way along another invisible trail there. This time he didn't stop halfway, but, shifting his hands to her thighs, clasped them lightly and urged them apart as he kissed his way up to the very core of her.

Sam cried out and threw her head back, one hand releasing the dresser and searching blindly for his head. Her fingers curled into his hair and she held on as his tongue lashed over her. When her legs gave out beneath her and her behind began to slide off the edge of the dresser, Mortimer simply used his hold to lift her to sit farther back on it and then caught her legs and drew them up over his shoulders as he continued what he was doing. And what he was doing was reducing her to a trembling mass of gasping, mindless need. Sam had never experienced pleasure the like of what he gave her. It didn't just feel good. It wasn't a wave of pleasure rolling over her at each caress. It was waves in the plural. The initial pleasure would crash down over her and then as a new wave crashed down, an echo of the first would be striking too so that Sam was doubly bombarded. It was as if each sensation was bouncing off to some place and then bouncing back doubled, and then trebled and so on until her mind and body were afire and filled with the echoing pleasure.

It was overwhelming, almost excruciating, and just when Sam thought she couldn't stand another moment of it, Mortimer released his hold on one thigh and brought his hand into play, slipping one finger inside her.

If there was anyone in the house, there was no way he could have missed the scream that action ripped from her throat. Truthfully, Sam wouldn't have been surprised to be told it was heard across the lake. It vibrated through her whole body, shredding her vocal cords and trumpeting from her lips. Her body convulsed and shook on the dresser top as unbearable pleasure exploded inside her. It was almost a relief when the darkness began to crowd in, and then took her away.

Sam woke up sometime later to find herself in a tangled heap with Mortimer on the bedroom's carpeted floor. She knew she had fainted, but he appeared to have lost consciousness as well.

Biting her lip, she untangled herself from his limp body and sat up to peer at him with concern, wondering what had happened. Surely she hadn't squeezed her thighs so hard in her excitement that she'd suffocated the man?

That seemed the only plausible explanation, and Sam was horrified by it. Dear God, she might have unintentionally killed him. Death by sex, she thought with dismay, and leaned down to press her ear to his chest to see if his heart was still beating.

Sam heard the first strong thump of his heart just as she felt his hand in her hair. Sitting up abruptly, she saw he was awake and wailed, "I'm sorry!"

Confusion immediately filled Mortimer's features, and he sat up as she began to babble, "I didn't mean to smother you. I was just so excited. But I shouldn't have squeezed so tight," she said with self-reproach, and then added in her own defense, "I didn't know I was. I'd never have smothered you on purpose. I swear, I-"

It was hard to talk with a mouthful of tongue, at least not without biting the tongue in question. Sam was certainly not going to do that after nearly killing the man who had given her so much pleasure, so was forced to silence.

Mortimer kissed her until she moaned with reawakened passion, only then breaking it off to say, "You didn't smother me."

"I must have," she said at once.

"You didn't," he assured her, brushing his thumb tenderly over the corner of her mouth.

"But you were unconscious," she pointed out with bewilderment.

"Too much excitement," Mortimer said with a shrug.

Sam made a face. "I was the one enjoying all the excitement. You were giving it."

"Then maybe it's something I ate." He was suddenly getting to his feet, and she couldn't see his expression, but his voice sounded unconcerned.

Sam frowned, sure he was just trying to make her feel better. She'd have to be more careful in the future. The last place she wanted to find herself was standing in a courtroom with a charge of negligent homicide against her, trying to explain how she'd "accidentally" smothered her lover to death. If he ever dared do that again and risked such a dicey death, she thought. He might not ever want to-

Sam's thought died on a small gasp as Mortimer suddenly lifted her into his arms. Grabbing at his shoulders, she peered up into his face. He had good color and seemed perfectly fine now. She felt fine too, though she wouldn't bet on her legs holding her up at this moment.

"Thank you," Sam whispered, but didn't mean for carrying her. She'd never experienced pleasure like that before. Surely it deserved a thank-you. Actually, it deserved more than that, she thought, and when he reached the bed, she kissed him before he could set her down.

Mortimer's arms tightened around her as he kissed her back, his tongue eagerly meeting hers. That was all it took for Sam's earlier excitement to start pulsing through her again, and she soon moaned into his mouth and kicked her legs, urging him to let her go.

He released her legs at once, shifting both arms around her back as her feet hit the ground so that she was standing in the circle of his embrace. Sam was still a bit shaky, but merely leaned against him as they kissed. She allowed her hands to roam the vast expanse of his back and then slid them around to his front to urge him away.

When he broke the kiss and raised his head slightly to peer down at her, she smiled and whispered, "My turn."

As she eased to sit on the edge of the bed, Sam drew her hands down his body, dragging them over his chest and stomach until she reached the button of his jeans. She undid that and the zipper and then glanced up through her eyelashes as she curled her fingers over both his pants and boxers and began to pull them down over his hips. Mortimer was watching everything she did with an expectant fascination that made her smile before she dropped her eyes back to what she was doing.

Sam undressed him as he had her, urging him back from the bed so that she could help him step out of his clothes, and then she began to brush feather-light kisses along his inner thighs, intending to torment him as he had her, but she found the actions a bit tormenting herself. Every kiss she fluttered across his skin felt like one along her own so that Sam found herself squirming a bit as she ministered to him. She was incredibly excited herself by the time she turned her attention to his erection and took him into her mouth. Sam drew her lips its length, drawing a moan from them both as her own excitement level shot through the roof.

Confused by the excitement and pleasure she was experiencing along with him, Sam hesitated and then did it again, her eyes widening and darting up toward him as pleasure pulsed through her as keen as if he were doing something similar to her.

Mortimer caught the way Sam's eyes widened in surprise as she ran her mouth over him and knew she was experiencing his pleasure as her own and was confused by it. It was another attribute of life mates; lovemaking was a much more shared event, each experiencing the other's pleasure so that it bound together, growing as it bounced between them until they both reached their explosive release at the same time. He'd experienced that while pleasuring her at the dresser, enjoying the pleasure he gave her, feeling when it sharpened or waned. It had spurred him on, telling him what felt best and how to drive them both wild until they found their release together before fainting. That was another attribute. Lovemaking between life mates was so powerful, mortals and immortals alike lost consciousness briefly afterward. It would continue for decades until their minds and bodies adjusted to the new sensations and could withstand the overwhelming pleasure.

Sam didn't know any of this, however, and he couldn't tell her. As much as Mortimer hated to stop her, he had to. There would be too many questions he couldn't answer if he allowed her to continue.

Reaching down, he caught her by the upper arms and drew her to her feet.

"Oh, but I wanted to-" Sam protested, trying to resist.

"Another time," Mortimer growled, pulling her up insistently. "After you're-" He caught himself before saying the word turned, and silently berated himself for nearly bringing on some of those questions he was trying to avoid.

"After I'm what?" she asked with bewilderment.

Mortimer kissed her with a passion meant to drive the question right out of her mind. His mouth was determined and demanding, and his hands grazed every inch of flesh he could reach. He ran them up her back, down her arms, and then up her stomach so that they rode right up to crest her breasts, and then closed them there, briefly squeezing the small buds and teasing her nipples. It sent pleasure rocketing through her that then pinged through him as well, sharp and exciting with building echoes.

Groaning, he dropped his hands to her behind next, and cupped her there firmly to draw her up against him so that their groins met and they rubbed across each other, and then he moved forward, taking her with him. Mortimer urged her onto the bed, easing her back until she lay with her legs dangling off at the knees, her feet brushing the floor.

Sam gasped and clutched at his shoulders, sucking frantically at his tongue. She also opened for him, spreading her legs to offer him a cradle. Mortimer took advantage of their position to drive them both crazy by simply rubbing his hardness against her slick heat until the pleasure bouncing between them reached the point where he just couldn't stand it anymore.

When Sam dug her nails into his back and tore her mouth from his to gasp, "Please!" he finally gave them what they both wanted and allowed himself to slide inside her moist heat.

It was like coming home and the Fourth of July all at once. Pleasure shocked through him, tearing at his control, urging him on as he caught her by the hips and drove himself into her again and again until they both shouted out with victory as release exploded over them. It seemed to go on forever before the darkness washed up over him, making his eyes slip closed as he started to lose consciousness. In the last moment before the lights went out completely, Mortimer tried to shift himself to the side so that he wouldn't crush Sam, and then he knew no more.