Lori Wilde - Gotta Have It

“Didn’t you used to be a blonde?” he asked.

“Yep, and a brunette before that and once I did the tricolor blond-brunette-red-hair thing. So I guess you could say I was a calico.” She shrugged. “I’m not like Abby who’s had the same tame hairstyle all her life. I get bored easily.”

Durango laughed. “I like you, Tess.”

“I like you too, Durango.”

Dammit, was Tess flirting with him? And criticizing her hairdo to boot? Abby experienced a flick of jealousy so hot and quick it startled her.

“Are we going to do this vortex thing or not?” she snapped, irritated with herself because she sounded jealous.

“Sure, sure.” Durango nodded. “Who’s calling shotgun?”

“Abby is!” Tess said.

“Or we could both just sit in the back.”

“No, no, you two need to catch up on old times,” Tess announced, and shoved Abby toward the passenger side of the Jeep.

“No, really, there’s no need. I’m happy with the back,” Abby argued.

But Durango was getting behind the wheel and Tess was sprawled out across the back seat.

Move over, Abby mouthed silently.

Tess shook her head.

Abby waggled her finger at her. I’m going to get even with you for this.

Saucily, Tess stuck out her tongue.

Durango started the engine, leaving Abby no choice except to climb into the passenger seat beside him.

She stopped short when she spied a credo medallion dangling from the rearview mirror. The silver lettering against the red background caught the sun and glinted enticingly.

Freefall, it read.

Freefall. Didn’t that just about sum up Durango? And her fantasies concerning him.

Her dreams always involved an element of danger and risk. In her reveries, he was usually a virile pirate or a black-hearted bandit or a lawless mercenary.

She remembered his hot kisses, how they’d both frightened and thrilled her. She recalled the way his fevered hand had felt sliding up underneath her shirt, expertly unhooking her bra. She recollected how he’d shocked her young sensibilities by pressing the length of his male hardness against her yearning thigh. She could not forget the way her heart had pounded and how much it had scared her. This desperate wanting.

And it appeared nothing had changed!

I am not giving in to desire. I’m not like my mother. I’m a controlled person. I am. I am. I am. This had been her solemn mantra in high school and it was still her mantra now.

So why did she suddenly feel like she was in an irrevocable tailspin?

Abby sneezed into a tissue and then fastened her seat belt. She dropped her hands into her lap and struggled to get her heart rate under control. She had had no concept that seeing Durango again would affect her so profoundly.

Of course if she hadn’t been ambushed by Tess’s subterfuge, she would have been more prepared for their meeting, more in control of her emotions, more patient with her distressing reaction. She shot a glance back at her wily friend, who had her face tilted up to the morning sun and was grinning one of those sneaky Cheshire-cat grins of hers.

And damn if she wasn’t softly humming, Sheryl Crow’s “All I Wanna Do.”

Abby knew the message Tess was sending. Just relax and have some fun. But how could she relax when her entire world had just tilted off its axis?

Durango put the Jeep in gear, shot around the paved circular driveway and out of the gate. Abby clutched at her hat to keep it from flying off. She could literally feel his sexual energy.

The man was potent. She had to give him that. Testosterone shimmered off him in waves.

But did she really want to explore his…um…potency?

The chemistry was still there. No denying. Bubbling, sizzling, churning. Scarier than ever.

You know that’s why you want him. Because he’s not safe. Because he is taboo.

Good grief. Why was Cassandra’s voice tap-dancing around in her head?

She could feel the current of sexuality swirling around them, a compelling nexus of desire. But was a wild fling really the answer to ending the sexual fantasies she could not shake? Or would seducing this man open up a whole new can of hurt?

She slipped her sunglasses back on and coolly said, “So what exactly is a vortex?”

He turned his head to smile at her, and her heart, which had just begun to settle down, kicked back into high gear. If the man could bottle that grin the world’s fuel problems would be solved.

“Essentially it’s the energy of the earth.”

“Oookay.”

“The energy can be magnetic, electric or electromagnetic. The magnetic vortices are considered masculine, the feminine are electric and the electromagnetic are neutral.”

“Which one of those are we going to?” Abby asked, and caught herself studying his large, masculine hands as he clutched the steering wheel.

He had such nice, long, broad fingers. She recollected how those same fingers had once tickled the underside of her throat while his hot, wet tongue had eagerly explored her ear.

Magnetic, indeed.

“We’re going to Cathedral Rock first. It’s a feminine vortex.”

“What’s supposed to happen there?”

“Maybe nothing.” Durango shrugged. “It all depends on what you’re looking for. Some people come to Sedona for spiritual growth. Others arrive searching for health and emotional well-being. Still others find themselves at a crossroad in their lives and they’re seeking guidance. Sedona is a good place to turn inward and find out what you really want.”

That’s me. I’m at a crossroad.

And she had no idea what it was she really wanted out of life.

“What kind of guidance can these earth energies give you?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“If you let yourself feel the power, they can guide you anywhere you want to go.”

“Sounds cryptic,” Tess piped up.

“It’s an individual experience. If you’re attuned, the vortex can lead you to balance and harmony in your life. Or it can point the way to an important career change. It can help you in your relationships or it can set you on the path to heightened awareness.”

“What about sex?” Tess asked.

“I’m for it,” Durango said.

Tess giggled. “Me too. But what I’ve heard is that vortex energy can enhance your sex life.”

Durango chuckled. His laugh was low and sensuous and snaked a fissure of that very heightened awareness right up Abby’s spinal column. “If that’s what you need. Sure, why not?”

“I’m betting the electromagnetic vortices are the sexiest, right?” Tess sat up and leaned over the front seat.

“I never really thought of it that way,” Durango said. “But, yeah, I suppose those would be considered the sexiest vortices. Concurrent flow and all that.”

“Do you really believe the vortices have such influential power?” Abby asked.

“Not at all,” he said. “The power is within you. The vortex is just a channel, funneling energy into whatever you bring to it. Positive or negative. Light or dark. Passionate or dispassionate.”

Abby swallowed. “All this sounds pretty out there. New Agey. Weird.”

And not at all like the old Durango she used to know. That young rebel had been full of torment and anger. He was different now. More relaxed, more philosophical, more sure of his place in the world. Plus, he didn’t seem to hold the slightest grudge against her for turning against him all those years ago. That was really nice. She approved of the changes in him.

Durango leaned over and placed the flat of his broad thumb in the center of her forehead. “Open your mind, Abby. The world is a much bigger place than your father’s circle of influence.”

She stared at him, her forehead tingling from his touch. “What’s that supposed to mean?”